太極拳講義 TAIJI BOXING EXPLAINED 著作者 吳公藻 by Wu Gongzao 校正者 吳公儀 text proofread by Wu Gongyi [published by the 湖南國術訓練所 Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute, June, 1935]
[translation by Paul Brennan, Dec, 2018]
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吳公藻編 by Wu Gongzao: 太極拳講義 Taiji Boxing Explained 何鍵題 – calligraphy by He Jian
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向愷然序 PREFACE BY XIANG KAIRAN [a dialogue]
客有致疑於太極拳者。曰。拳之為用。主搏人。四肢百骸。人所同具。欲操勝算。捨快與力奚由。故拳家有一快不破。一硬不破之言。乃今之言太極拳者。則曰。以不用力為體。以慢為用。得毋與拳之原理相悖謬乎。 A doubter of Taiji Boxing once said to me: “The main function of a boxing art is for fighting opponents. Four limbs and a body – it’s the same set-up for everyone. But if you want to win, why would you dispense with speed and strength? As boxing masters say: ‘unbeatable speed, unbreakable hardness’. But nowadays there are Taiji Boxing practitioners saying: ‘To put forth no exertion is the foundation, and in slowness lies the function.’ In relation to the other boxing principle, isn’t this a ludicrous statement?”
余曰。誠然。拳之為用。捨力與快無由。客將謂拳之快而多力者。有逾於太極拳者乎。 To this I said: “Yes indeed. There’s no reason to abandon strength and speed for the functionality of those other boxing arts. But are you suggesting that boxing practitioners with great speed and strength would defeat a Taiji boxer?”
客曰。吾習太極拳三年於茲矣。先晢嘗詔吾曰。一舉動週身俱要輕靈。用勁如抽絲。不可斷續。是云云者。非慢而不用力之謂乎。吾寢饋其中。無間寒燠。然嘗與里中之習他拳纔數月者角。輒敗退不知所以支吾之道。曩固疑其非搏人之術。茲益信其然矣。今吾子顧曰。拳之快而多力者。無逾此。願聞其說。 He then said: “I’ve now been practicing Taiji Boxing for three years. Previous masters explain to us: ‘Once there is any movement, your entire body should have lightness and nimbleness.’ ‘Move energy as if drawing silk.’ ‘Do not allow there to be breaks in the flow.’ Aren’t such statements saying that it’s slow and doesn’t use strength? I’ve obsessed over this even in my sleep and practiced constantly no matter what the weather’s like. Nevertheless, when I tried wrestling with a practitioner of another boxing art in my hometown, who had only been training for a few months, I was defeated, for I had no idea what to do. I then strongly suspected that this isn’t a fightworthy art and I’ve come to believe even more that this is the case. But now you instead say that boxing arts that are fast and strong do not surpass this one. I wish to hear your explanation.”
余曰。異哉子之所謂快與硬也。豈不以手之屈伸。足之進退為快。肌膚之粗糙。筋骨之堅實為硬乎。是屬於人類自然之本能。無關藝術之修養者也。且屈伸進退。為用甚簡。雖至迅。必有間。人得而乘焉。太極拳之為用。雖亦不離乎屈伸進退。然曲中求直。其象如圜。唯其圜也。為用不拘一方。猶之槍之為用。人知其在頴也。刀之為用。人知其在鋒也。非甚簡矣乎。若夫圜之為用。則無在無不在也。唯其用之無不在也。故一舉動週身俱要輕靈。庶幾無習於拳者。難於掌。習於臀者。難於足之病。其迅捷視他拳不可以數字計。拳經載。一處有一處虛實。處處總此一虛實。又謂。一動無有不動。一靜無有不靜。是可知其一舉動為用之繁賾矣。他拳鮮不用斷勁者。斷而復續。授隙於人。太極拳泯斷續之跡。用時隨在可斷。斷而復連。王宗岳謂粘卽是走。走卽是粘。人不知我。我獨知人。正是於此等處。用力久而後能臻於縝密。試思一舉動之為用遍週身。處處皆當詳審其虛實所在。則其形於外者。安得不慢乎。 I responded: “How strange. Isn’t what you’re saying about speed and hardness a matter of the speed of the arms bending and extending, of the feet advancing and retreating, and of the hardness of tough skin and muscle, of robust bone and sinew? These are natural human capacities, nothing to do with developed martial skill. For that matter, bending, extending, advancing, retreating are extremely simple actions, and no matter how fast they’re performed, they’ll surely leave a gap for the opponent to take advantage of. Although applications in Taiji Boxing don’t depart from bending, extending, advancing, retreating, they also have the quality of ‘within curving, seek to be straightening’, and is rounded in appearance. Because of its roundness, its functionality is unlimited. “Compare this to using a spear, which everyone knows is mainly a matter of using the spear tip, or to using a saber, which everyone knows is mainly a matter of using the saber edge. Are they not extremely simple? But the applicability of roundness reaches nowhere and everywhere, and thus it can function anywhere. Hence: ‘Once there is any movement, your entire body should have lightness and nimbleness.’ This frees you almost fully from the errors made by those who overtrain punching and so have difficulty striking with the palm, or those who overtrain striking with the hips and so have difficulty kicking. “The speed of this art thus can’t even be measured in the same way as for other boxing arts. It says in the classics: ‘In each part there is a part that is empty and a part that is full. Everywhere it is always like this, an emptiness and a fullness.’ Also: ‘If one part moves, every part moves, and if one part is still, every part is still.’ From this we can know that once there is any movement, its function will be complex and subtle. “Other boxing arts rarely do not employ an interrupted energy, stopping and then starting up again, leaving a gap for an opponent to exploit. In Taiji Boxing, there is no indication of any stopping and starting, because during application you can ‘disconnect but stay connected’. Wang Zongyue said: ‘In sticking there is yielding and in yielding there is sticking… He does not know me, only I know him.’ This is exactly the idea. After working at it for a long time, you’ll be able to achieve this quality even at a level of minute detail. Consider that ‘once there is any movement’, you’re using your entire body, examining for emptiness and fullness everywhere, so of course the outward appearance would seem slowed down.”
客曰。慢之道。得聞命矣。其以無力為多力之說。可得聞乎。 He then asked: “Having heard the theory of slowness, can I hear the explanation for no strength being great strength?”
余曰。拳術不貴力。而貴勁。不僅太極拳也。一切拳術。則皆然矣。夫人不患無力。特患其力之不能集中耳。力為人所恆有。世固無力之人。一臂之重十斤。能屈伸運動。則一臂具十斤之力矣。一身之重數十斤。未聞其足之不能自舉。則足具數十斤之力矣。此為天下至弱者之所同具。但以其為力而非勁也。不能集中一點。以傳達於敵人之身。故不足貴。習拳者。在使力化為勁。倘能以十斤之勁。集於手而中於人。人必傷。數十斤之勁。集於足而中於人。人必斃。則亦何患乎力之不多也。他拳之勢。掌則為掌。肘則為肘。顯然易知。然學者積久成習。尚多有麤疏木强。不能集中其勁以達於敵人者。病在知有力之為力。不知無力之為力也。握拳透爪。嚙齒穿齦。自視殊武健。而不知力因此已陷於肩背。徒為他人攻擊之藉。力雖大何補。太極拳之原則。在化力為勁。尤在能任意集中。用之則行。舍之則藏。無麤疏木强之弊。無屈伸斷續之跡。故經曰。無氣者純剛。是不用力也。非不用勁也。 I said: “Boxing arts do not value strength, but power. This is not only the case in Taiji Boxing, but in all boxing arts. A practitioner does not worry that he has no force, only that his force cannot be concentrated. “Strength is something everyone has, even those who hardly have any. An arm may weigh ten pounds. It can therefore move by bending and extending with the force of ten pounds. A body may weigh a hundred pounds. There is no one who can’t lift his own foot, therefore the leg acts with the force of a hundred pounds. Even the weakest people in the world have this much strength. But this is merely a matter of strength rather than power. It can’t be focused at a point and transmitted into the opponent’s body, therefore it’s not really worthwhile. “A boxing arts practitioner seeks to convert strength into power. If he can concentrate ten pounds of power into his hand and hit the opponent with it, the opponent is sure to be injured. If he can concentrate a hundred pounds of power into his foot and hit the opponent with it, the opponent is sure to be killed. So why would there be any worry about not having a lot of strength? “In the postures of other boxing arts, a palm strike is clearly a palm strike and an elbow strike is obviously an elbow strike. But the students form habits through long-term practice and end up maintaining a mindless stiffness, unable to concentrate power and send it into opponents. The error lies in treating strength as strength and not understanding how going without strength can be strength. “They clench their fists so hard that they look like talons protruding, and they clench their teeth so hard that they look like they’ll bite through their own faces. They imagine themselves to be replete with martial skill, but they don’t understand that their strength has become stuck in their shoulders and back, giving their opponents an opportunity to attack. So even with great strength, what help would it be? “The principle in Taiji Boxing is to convert strength into power, and particularly to be able to focus it as you please. When you apply it, it is in action. When not applying it, it is stored away. There are no errors of rough-edged stiffness, nor signs of bending and extending, stopping and starting. Therefore it says in the classics: ‘If you ignore the energy and let it take care of itself, there will be pure strength.’ So it is not a matter of putting forth exertion, but of applying power.”
客曰。誠如吾子之說。則吾三年來寢饋其中。未嘗不慢。未嘗用力。何為而不得一當也。 He said: “What you say rings true. But I’ve been completely absorbed in the training for three years, I’ve never rushed through the set, and I’ve never used any exertion. So why can’t I get it right?”
余曰。古人緣理以造勢。吾人應卽勢以明理。不知理而徒練勢。他拳且不可。况精深博大之太極拳乎。雖寢處其中三十年。亦何益也。 I said: “Previous generations made the postures according to principles, and so we should practice the postures in order to understand their principles. But if we don’t come to understand the principles and we’re just practicing the postures, we wouldn’t be able to succeed even in other boxing arts, much less in the case of deeply profound Taiji Boxing. Even if we put all our time into it over the course of thirty years, we’d get nothing out of it.”
客曰。然則如何而後可。 He asked: “That being the case, what should we do to succeed?”
余曰。練體、惟熟讀經論。力求體驗。練用、則玩索打手歌。及十三勢行功心解。斯亦可矣。 I answered: “To train foundation, you only have to study the classics and strive to experience what they discuss. To train function, specifically ponder the Playing Hands Song and Understanding How to Practice. By this means, you will succeed.”
客曰。是不待吾子之命。曩嘗從事於斯矣。論言、由着熟漸悟懂勁。由懂勁階及神明。吾日習幾三十遍。着法不為不熟矣。為時三年。用力不為不久矣。而豁然貫通之效不見。是以疑之。 He said: “Before you suggested it, I’d actually already studied them. The Treatise says: ‘Once you have ingrained these techniques, you will gradually come to identify energies, and then from there you will work your way toward something miraculous. [But unless you practice a lot over a long time, you will never have a breakthrough.]’ Everyday I practice almost thirty rounds of the solo set, so the techniques can’t really be considered uningrained, and after three whole years, my great deal of practice can’t really be considered to have happened over a brief time. But I haven’t yet witnessed any results on the level of a ‘breakthrough’, and thus I’m in doubt.”
余曰。子之所謂着熟者。殆其形於外之進退周旋歟。若能心知其意。虛實分明。則勢愈練而意愈縝密。所謂行氣如九曲球。無微不至。則一身之四肢百骸。無在不可以蓄勁。無在不可以發勁。卽是隨處能走。隨處能粘。復安有敗退於學他拳纔數月者之理。 I said: “By ‘ingrained techniques’, do you mean outward postures such as advancing, retreating, turning around? If you’re to understand such actions in terms of intention, emptiness and fullness will be clearly distinguished, and then the more you practice the postures, the more meticulous your intention will become. It is said: ‘Move energy as though through a winding-path pearl, penetrating even the smallest nook.’ This means that the whole body, its four limbs and hundreds of bones, can store power in every part and issue power from any part. What this means is that you’re everywhere able to yield, everywhere able to stick. And then how would you be defeated through the principles of someone who has been studying some other boxing art for just a few months?”
客至是恍然若有所悟。曰。虛實無定時。無定位。以意為變化。於理則然矣。施之於事。每苦進退失據。甚且頂抗蠻觸於不自覺。雙重之病。有若天性使然。避之甚難。吾非不知病在虛實未分明也。觸覺未敏銳也。然有時明知其然。而法無可施者。其故亦別有在乎。 He seemed to arrive at a sudden realization and said: “As the timing or position is never certain when it comes to emptiness and fullness, the intention has to be on adapting. This principle makes sense. But whatever I try to do, I always advance or retreat in vain, even to the point that there’s a great deal of resistance in my touch and yet I’m not aware of it. The error of double pressure seems to be an inherent part of me, really difficult to avoid. It’s not that I don’t know that the error lies in not clearly distinguishing between emptiness and fullness, it’s that I don’t yet have a keen enough sensitivity to do it well. There are times when I know exactly what’s going on, but I can’t carry out any technique. So is there still some other problem?”
余曰。十三勢以中定為主。掤捋擠按十二勢為輔。有中定。然後有一切。一切勢皆不離乎中定。然後足以言應付。陳品三謂開闔虛實。卽為拳經。吾人應知無中定。安有開闔。譬之戶牖。開闔在樞。樞若動搖。云何開闔。不開不闔。虛實焉求。是可知無中定之虛實。非虛實也。無中定之觸覺。猶瞽之視。跛之履。觸如不觸。覺如不覺也。經曰。中正安舒。安舒云者。定之謂也。 I said: “Within the thirteen dynamics, being centered is the priority. The other twelve – warding off, rolling back, pressing, pushing, and so on – are just there to assist. If you have that quality of being centered, then you have everything. When none of your postures exist independent from centeredness, then you’ll be ready to talk about applying them. Chen Pinsan [Chen Xin] said: ‘Open and close, emptiness and fullness – these are the keys to the art.’ We should understand that when we don’t have centeredness, there’s no opening and closing. “For example, the opening and closing of a door depends upon its hinges. If a hinge slips into an awkward angle, will it open or close well? Without opening and closing, you won’t be able to seek emptiness and fullness. Thus you can understand that any emptiness or fullness you feel when not centered is neither emptiness nor fullness. Being without a sense of centeredness is like a blind man’s sight, a lame man’s steps, touching when without a sense of touch, perceiving when without ability to perceive. It says in the classics: ‘Your posture must be straight and comfortable.’ That word ‘comfortable’ is the indicator of being centered.”
客曰。求中定有道乎。 He then asked: “Is there a method for developing centeredness?”
余曰。子但知虛實無定時。無定位。以意為變化。而不知每一虛實。皆先有中定。而後有變化。處處有虛實。卽處處有中定。蓄法無定法。而一切法皆從中定中出。則聖人復起。不易吾言也。法遍周身。中定亦遍周身。然初學者。不足以語此。無已。則求左右開闔之樞。在脊。上下開闔之樞。在腰。先哲所謂力由脊發。所謂尾閭正中。所謂氣貼背斂入脊骨。所謂頂頭懸。皆明示其樞在脊也。所謂腰如車軸。所謂腰為纛。所謂命意源頭在腰際。所謂刻刻留心在腰間。所謂主宰於腰。皆明示其樞在腰也。學者先求得腰脊之中定。然後一切法。乃有中定。非然者。雖童而習之。以至於皓首。猶無益也。十三勢歌云。若不向此推求去。枉費工夫貽嘆息。鳴呼。昔賢悲憫之言。如聞其聲矣。 I said: “You merely understand that emptiness and fullness have no fixed moment or position, and your intention is to switch them, but you don’t understand that for every instance of emptiness and fullness, there first has to be centeredness in order to switch them. There’s everywhere an emptiness and a fullness, and so there’s everywhere a centeredness. Because the techniques are not fixed, every technique emerges from centeredness. Even if Zhang Sanfeng rose from the dead right now, he couldn’t alter this point. “The techniques involve the whole body, and centeredness also involves the whole body. But since beginners are not equipped to understand this, they ought to just confine themselves to seeking the mechanism of opening and closing to the left and right in the spine, and the mechanism of opening and closing above and below in the waist. The previous masters said: ‘Power comes from your spine.’ ‘Your tailbone is centered.’ ‘Energy stays near your back and gathers in your spine.’ ‘Your headtop will be pulled up as if suspended.’ These clearly indicate the pivot is in the spine. ‘Your waist is like an axle.’ ‘Your waist is a banner.’ ‘The command comes from your lower back.’ ‘At every moment, pay attention to your waist.’ ‘Direct it from your waist.’ These clearly indicate the pivot is in the waist. “If you first seek centeredness in your waist and spine, then every technique will have the quality of centeredness. If not, then even if you practice from youth to old age, it’ll seem like you’ve gotten nothing out of it. It says in the Thirteen Dynamics Song: ‘If you pay no heed to those ideas, you will go astray in your training, and you will find you have wasted your time and be left with only sighs of regret.’ Alas, these wistful words from the wise men of a previous generation do seem to go unheard.”
客聞而再拜曰。微吾子言。吾雖日讀經論。而不得間也。抑更有請者。經言氣宜鼓盪。論言。氣沉丹田。十三勢歌言。氣遍身軀不少滯。十三勢行功心解言。以心行氣。以氣運身。其言氣者多矣。究竟氣以何法使鼓盪。使沉丹田。使遍身軀。心、如何行氣。氣、如何運身。明知氣為此中肝要。然苦無下手處。且丹田在臍以下。今之生理學家。謂呼吸以肺不以腹。橫膈膜以下。非呼吸所能達。所謂腹部呼吸者。橫膈膜之運動而已。其將以何法使氣沉丹田。 Having heard this explanation, he politely said: “How profound your words are. Despite studying the classics daily, I still haven’t been able to understand their content, and so I have some more questions. It says in the Classic: ‘Energy should be roused.’ It says in the Treatise: ‘Energy sinks down to your elixir field.’ It says in the Thirteen Dynamics Song: ‘Then energy will flow through your whole body without getting stuck anywhere.’ It says in Understanding How to Practice: ‘Use mind to move energy… Use energy to move your body.’ The mentions of ‘energy’ are numerous. How exactly does one ‘rouse’ energy, or get it to sink to the elixir field, or flow through the whole body? And does mind move energy, or energy move the body? “Moreover, the ‘elixir field’ lies below the navel, but modern physiologists say that breathing uses the lungs rather than the abdomen. The diaphragm moves downward, but the breath is not able to reach that far. Therefore ‘abdominal breathing’ is just the movement of the diaphragm. So what method is there to get ‘energy’ to sink to the elixir field?”
余曰。善哉問乎。夫人捨呼吸外無氣。所謂氣沉丹田。卽意存丹田也。亦卽所謂腹內鬆淨氣騰然。刻刻留心在腰際也。習太極拳者。求每勢之開闔。勢勢存心。揆其用意。然後以呼吸附麗於開闔之中。呼為開。吸為闔。各勢中有手開闔。足開闔。身開闔。縱橫開闔。內外開闔。一開闔卽一呼吸。開闔所在。卽意所在。亦卽呼吸所在。習之旣久。自然氣遍周身。下手之功在呼吸。成就玄妙不思議之功。亦在呼吸。行功心解中。謂能呼吸。而後能靈活者。此也。 I said: “Good questions. Without breathing, there’s no energy. It is said: ‘Energy sinks down to your elixir field.’ This means that intention stays at your elixir field. It’s also said: ‘At every moment, pay attention to your waist, for if there is relaxation and stillness within your belly, energy is primed.’ “Practitioners of Taiji Boxing seek for opening and closing within every posture. ‘In every movement, very deliberately control it by the use of intention.’ But within opening and closing, there’s breathing involved. Exhaling makes opening. Inhaling makes closing. Within every posture, there’s opening and closing in the arms, the legs, the body. There’s vertical and horizontal opening and closing, and internal and external opening and closing. A single ‘opening and closing’ means an exhaling and inhaling. Where there’s opening and closing, there’s intention, and there’s also exhaling and inhaling. “If you practice over a long time, there will naturally be energy flowing throughout your whole body. The work lies in the breathing, so achieving unimaginable skill also lies in the breathing. It says in Understanding How to Practice: ‘Your ability to be nimble lies in your ability to breathe.’ This is what that is talking about.”
客曰。讀太極拳經論者多矣。果能心領神會。事理無礙者。實未易多覯。吾子曷書適所論列者。以昭式來茲。或亦足為研習此道者解感之一助歟。 He said: “There are many who have read the Taiji Boxing classics, but few have understood their reasoning. Could you maybe make some commentary to these texts to make it clear for new students and help to better explain it for seasoned practitioners?”
余曰唯。 To which I said: “Hmm, I think maybe we just did.”
湖南國術訓練所太極拳教官吳雨亭君。能傳其父鑑泉先生之術。有聲於時。並為諸生編太極拳術講義。以視當世僅注圖解。毫無當於精義。或摭拾五行八卦與藝術無關之艱深易理諸著作。自有天壤之別。責序於余。余久悲此道之難有正知見也。與客適所論列。復為吳著所不詳。故書以歸之。是為序。 民國二十四年六月平江向愷然序於湖南國術訓練所 In the Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute is the Taiji Boxing teacher Wu Yuting [Gongzao], who is able to pass down the art of his father, Wu Jianquan, and has also built his own reputation. He has written Taiji Boxing Explained in order to share information with this generation, a generation which has overly focused on images and hardly at all on essential concepts. Some people have merely drawn theories from the five elements and eight trigrams, and others have written strained interpretations of how the techniques are associated with the theory in the Book of Changes even though they are actually worlds apart. Wu demanded a preface of me, as I myself have long been troubled by how difficult it is to see this art getting understood properly. Fittingly, I happened to have a conversation with someone that contributed a few extra details which Wu’s writings have not covered, and so I wrote it down and am giving it to him as my preface. - written by Xiang Kairan of Pingjiang, at the Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute, June, 1935
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自序 AUTHOR’S PREFACE
拳術一道。不外强健筋骨。調和氣血。而太極拳。乃循太極動靜之理以為法。採虛實變化之妙而為用。動靜者、行意之本源。虛實者、運勁之基礎。蘊之於內者曰勁。以為體。形之於外者曰勢、以為用。以靜制動。動中求靜。以柔尅剛。剛以濟柔。逆來順受。純任自然。蓋由於感覺使然。感之於身。覺之於心。身有所感。心有所覺。聽其虛實。問其動靜。得其重心。然後審己量敵。運用機勢。變換虛實。攻而取之。經云。斯技旁門甚多。槪不外有力打無力。又曰。察四兩撥千斤之句。顯非力勝。夫有力打無力。斯乃先天自然之能。生而知之。非學而後能之。所謂四兩撥千斤者。實則合乎權衡之理。無論體之輕重。力之大小。能在一動之間。移其重心。使之全身牽動。故太極拳之動作。所以異於他技者。非務以力勝人也。推而進之。不惟强筋健骨。調和氣血。而自能修養身心。却病延年。為後天養生之妙道焉。 近年來當道諸公。提倡國術不遺餘力。用以振發民族。尚武精神。引起國人之注意。而一般行政機關。及學校法團。尤注重於太極拳。風行所至。幾遍全國。以其動作緩和。吻合生理。雖老少童婦。習之咸宜。蓋無妨於體質也。 公藻於民國二十二年隨褚民誼先生來湘觀光國術。承主席何公之邀。擔任湖南國術訓練所太極拳教官。駒光易逝。倐忽三載。間嘗以我國數千年來。關於國術一道。競以門戶相尚。師弟相承。互為守秘。無籍可稽。漸至淹没。終於失傳。殊堪痛惜。誠武道之大不幸也。近世志士。鑒於外侮日迫。民氣消沉。痛往昔之錯謬。倡為國術救國。各有消滅門戶惡習之見解。著作專書。梓行於世。闡揚各個門派之真精神。俾人人得有公開研究機會。公藻祖傳斯道。三世於茲。家父傳人最多。入室弟子。如褚民誼、徐致一、王志羣、馬岳樑、吳圖南輩。各有著述刋行。吾道光明。實不後人。公藻頻年教學相長。常以經驗所得。筆之於書。管窺蠡測。未敢公諸大雅。蓋亦藏拙之意耳。客歲何公。復聘家兄子鎭。任本所太極拳主教。三湘人士。慕斯道者。步趨益衆。而秘書向愷然先生。為吾道同志。造詣頗深。鑒於所中學子。習太極拳者。苦無成文法理。可以觀摩。督公藻編纂太極拳講義一書。義不容辭。爰將舊作重新整理。分為上下二篇。俾從學諸生有所準繩。卽他日公藻去湘。人手一篇。亦有按圖索驥之便矣。 公藻不敏。習斯道二十餘年。徒以東西飄泊。粗無成就。旣愧綘灌無文。復悵隨陸不武。茲書之出。難免掛一漏萬。深望吾道同志。博雅君子。摘我瑕疵。匡我不逮。拋磚引玉。惠我珠璣。不獨公藻之幸。亦吾道之光也。 民國廿四年六月北京吳公藻序於湖南國術訓練所 Boxing arts are little more than a means of strengthening sinews and bone, and regulating breath and blood. But Taiji Boxing takes the taiji [“grand polarity”] concept of movement/stillness for its method and the subtle transformations of emptiness/fullness for its function. Movement and stillness form the framework for the actions of intention. Emptiness and fullness form the basis of expressing power. What is stored within is “power”. It provides the foundation. The external shape is the “posture”. It provides the function. Use stillness to control movement, and within movement seek to find stillness. Use softness to overcome hardness, and use hardness to assist softness. Receive whatever comes at you, responding to it with a pure naturalness. It all comes down to sensitivity, which is comprised of feeling with the body and perceiving with the mind: what is felt by the body is then perceived by the mind. Listen for the opponent’s emptiness and fullness, inquire into his movement and stillness, and find his center of balance. Then assess yourself and estimate him, making use of timing and positioning, switch emptiness and fullness, attack, and win. It says in the Classic: “There are many other schools of boxing arts besides this one… They generally do not go beyond the strong bullying the weak.” And also: “Examine the phrase ‘four ounces deflects a thousand pounds’, which is clearly not a victory obtained through strength… The strong beating the weak is a matter of inherent natural ability and bears no relation to skill that is learned.” Innate knowledge is not learned ability. The concept of “four ounces deflects a thousand pounds” conforms to the principle of the counterpoise weight being slid along a steelyard scale. Regardless of the weight of the opponent’s body or the extent of his strength, you can with one little movement shift his center of balance, causing it to affect his whole body. Therefore the movements in Taiji Boxing are different from those in other arts because it does not rely on using strength to defeat opponents. Furthermore, this art is not only a means of strengthening sinews and bone, of regulating breath and blood, but is inherently equipped for cultivating body and mind, for preventing illness and prolonging life, and is thus a marvelous method of nurturing health. In recent years, those in government have been doing their utmost to promote Chinese martial arts in order the rouse the people’s martial spirit. To draw the attention of our countrymen, ordinary administrative bodies and educational institutions have given particular focus to Taiji Boxing, which has become popular throughout the nation. Because its mild movements conform to physiological principles, it is suitable for all to practice – young and old, women and children – regardless of physique. In 1933, I went with Chu Minyi to observe the state of martial arts in Hunan. I was subsequently appointed to the position of Taiji Boxing instructor at the Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute, at the invitation of He Jian [governor of Hunan, who also oversaw the staffing of the Institute], and these past three years have raced by. Throughout our nation’s several thousand years of history, our martial arts have existed in a state of competition. Though styles respected each other, they passed their arts down only to disciples and otherwise kept their teachings secret from each other, and thus they made no books that could be examined. The result of this is that most of these arts gradually faded away until they were ultimately lost forever. This is unbearably tragic. Truly our martial ways have been greatly unfortunate. But now men of integrity have seen that the threat of foreign aggression is increasing by the day and that the morale of the people has plummeted. Bitter about the mistakes of the past, they have decided to promote our martial arts in order to rescue the nation. Whatever is left of these lost arts is being published in specialized manuals to spread the authentic spirit of the various styles and share with everyone the opportunity to study them. I received my art as a family transmission, passed down through three generations, mostly from father to son. Among my father’s other students are Chu Minyi, Xu Zhiyi, Wang Zhiqun [Runsheng], Ma Yueliang, and Wu Tunan, who have each published writings which gloriously illuminate our art. I have not actually been lagging behind them. Over the years, I have learned a great deal from teaching the art, and I too have often written down what I have gained through experience. It is just that I had never yet dared to show my shallow understandings to such refined gentlemen and instead decided to hide my inadequate attempts. Last year, He Jian appointed my elder brother Zizhen [Gongyi] to be the head Taiji Boxing instructor for the school. The people of Hunan so admired this art that students have swelled in number. But Xiang Kairan, who has been serving as the school secretary and is my comrade in this art, in which he is highly accomplished, noticed that the students were suffering from having no written theory to study alongside their training. Thus I was told to make a book explaining Taiji Boxing. Accepting this as a duty, I then made a fresh arrangement of my old scribblings, intending to divide it into two volumes, in order for students to have some criteria to work from, and so that someday when I depart from Hunan they will be able to simply pick up the book and use it to find their way. I am not terribly bright. I have been practicing this art for more than twenty years, and after traveling from place to place with it, I am still at a rather crude level, and [quoting from Chu Dawen’s Gazetteer of Shanxi, book 61] “I am ashamed that I have conquered no lands nor made any literary achievements”. When this book comes out, it will probably have more things wrong than right, and so I sincerely hope that my more scholarly martial arts comrades will seize upon my errors and not hold back from offering corrections. I am “tossing out a brick to draw forth jade”, so please favor me with your gems. It would not only be a blessing to me, it would also make the art shine brighter. - written by Wu Gongzao of Beijing, at the Hunan Martial Arts Training Institute, June, 1935
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吳鑑泉先生肖像 Portrait of Wu Jianquan:
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校正者吳公儀 Proofreader, Wu Gongyi:
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著者吳公藻 Author, Wu Gongzao:
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太極拳講義 TAIJI BOXING EXPLAINED 吴公藻編 by Wu Gongzao
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總論 [ONE] GENERAL INTRODUCTION
拳術一道。不外强健筋骨。調和氣血。修養身心。却病延年。實為後天養生之術。太極拳。乃循太極動靜之理以為法。採虛實變化之妙而為用。其姿勢也中正安舒。其動作也輕靈圓活。故一動無有不動。一靜無有不靜。其動靜之理。與道家之坐功。互相吻合。實道家之行功。在拳理言之故稱內家。因與道本為一體。老幼婦孺。均可練習。其功用純任自然。學之毫無痛苦。誠有益無害之運動也。苟能精勤研究。歷久不懈。則愈練愈精。愈精愈微。由微入妙。由妙入神。不但有益於身心。更能增進智慧。獲益殊非淺尠也。 Boxing arts are little more than a means of strengthening sinews and bone, and regulating breath and blood. But an art which cultivates body and mind, which prevents illness and prolongs life, would be an even better method for nurturing health. For that there is Taiji Boxing, which takes the taiji concept of movement/stillness for its method and the subtle transformations of emptiness/fullness for its function. The postures are centered and upright, calm and comfortable. The movements are light and sensitive, rounded and lively. It is said: “If one part moves, every part moves, and if one part is still, every part is still.” This principle of movement conforms to Daoist sitting meditation, or rather to Daoist moving meditation. The boxing theory is deemed to be of the “internal school” because it shares the same philosophical foundation as Daoism. It can be practiced by everyone – young and old, women and children – because it is performed with a pure naturalness, the student enduring no pains at all. It is truly an exercise that has only benefits and no harms. If you can study it devotedly, committing to it for a long time without slacking, then the more you practice, the more refined your skill will be. The more it is refined, the more subtle it becomes, until it goes from subtle to incredible, from incredible to magical. It will not only be helpful to both body and mind, for it can also increase wisdom, and thus its benefits are by no means meager.
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太極拳十三勢大義 [TWO] THE BASIC MEANING OF TAIJI BOXING’S THIRTEEN DYNAMICS
十三勢者。按五行八卦原理。卽推手之十三種總勁。非另有十三個姿勢。五行者。卽進，退，顧，盼，定，之謂。分為內外兩解。行於外者。卽前進，後退，左顧，右盼，中定，行於內者。卽粘，連，黏，隨，不丢頂。八卦者。亦分內外兩解。行於外者。卽四正，四隅，蘊於內者。卽掤，捋，擠，按，採，挒，肘，靠，八法也。行於外者為勢。蘊於內者為勁。學者以拳為體。以推手為用。經曰。其根在脚。發於腿。主宰於腰。形於手指。實為太極拳之精義。學者不可不留意焉。 The thirteen dynamics are based on the principles of the five elements and eight trigrams. They are the thirteen kinds of energy in pushing hands, not thirteen specific postures. There are two versions of the five elements – internal and external. Externally, they are advancing, retreating, stepping to the left, stepping to the right, and staying in the center. Internally, they are the qualities of sticking, connecting, adhering, following, and neither coming away nor crashing in. The eight trigrams also have internal and external versions. Externally, they are four cardinal directions and four corner directions. Internally, they are the eight actions of warding off, rolling back, pressing, pushing, plucking, rending, elbowing, and bumping. They are expressed outwardly as postures, but dwell within as energies. Treat the solo set as the foundation, the pushing hands exercise as the function. It says in the classics: “Starting from your foot, issue through your leg, directing it at your waist, and expressing it at your fingers.” These energies form the very essence of Taiji Boxing. You must devote attention to them.
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五行要義詳解 [THREE] THE FIVE ELEMENTS EXPLAINED IN DETAIL
五行者。金，木，水，火，土也。五行之勁。曰粘，連，黏，隨，不丢頂。茲將各勁詳解於後。 The five elements are metal, wood, water, fire, earth. The energies of the five elements are sticking, connecting, adhering, following, and neither coming away nor crashing in. Each of these energies is explained in detail below:
（一）粘者。如兩物互交粘之使起。在太極拳語中謂之勁。此勁非直接粘起。實間接而生。含有勁意雙兼兩義。如推手或交手時。對方體質强大。力氣充實。椿步穩固。似難使其掀動。或移其重心。然以粘勁。能使其自動失中。用意探之。使其氣騰。全神上注。則其體重而足輕。其根自斷。此卽彼之反動力所致。吾則順勢撤手。而以不丢不頂之勁。引彼懸空。是謂粘勁。 夫勁如粘球。一撫一提之間。運用純熟。球不離手。粘之卽起。所謂粘卽是走。走卽是粘之謂也。 意者。設想之謂。以虛實之理。使敵出其不意。攻其不備。對方雖實力充足。據險以守。不畏攻擊。不畏力敵。然最忌誘敵。吾若以利誘之。使其棄守為攻。實力分散。吾則分而擊之。是誘而殺之。亦其自取敗亡。所謂攻其所不守。守其所不攻之道也。學者務須時時體會。久而自驗。 1. Sticking is like two objects becoming stuck together. It is referred to in Taiji Boxing as an “energy” because it is an indirect rather than a literal form of sticking. Within it are the two concepts of energy and intention. During pushing hands or sparring, if the opponent’s physique is large and powerful, he is full of strength, and his stance is stable, it will seem difficult to move him or even affect his balance. But by using sticking energy, you can cause him to lose his center by himself. Test him by using intention, causing his energy to become agitated and all of his spirit to concentrate upward, with the result that his body may be heavy but his feet will become light, and he will break his own root. This is caused by his own reaction, and so you can simply go along with it and allow it to happen, using the energy of neither coming away nor crashing in to lead him into emptiness. This is the energy of sticking. This energy is like a sticking to a ball. [Imagine dribbling a basketball.] Give it a pat and then lift your hand. If this is done right, the ball will seem to not lose contact, sticking to your hand as you lift it. This is what is meant by “sticking is yielding and yielding is sticking”. “Intention” means imaginatively using the principle of emptiness and fullness in order to catch the opponent off guard and attack him unprepared. Even if he is very strong, is in a solid defensive position, is not worried about being attacked, or about how strong you may be, he is nevertheless very wary of been lured into a trap. If you entice him with the promise of some advantage, it causes him to abandon his defensive position in order to attack, scattering his strength and enabling you to attack him in some area where he is now reduced. In this way, you trick him into fighting, and thereby he defeats himself. This is the principle of “attack where he does not defend and defend where he does not attack”. You have to constantly work to understand this, and then after a long time, you will naturally get it through experience.
（二）連者。貫也。不中斷。不脫離。接續聯綿。無停無止。無息無休。是為連勁。 2. Connecting means “linking together”. Do not interrupt the movement or come out of synch with it. Let it be continuous, without any pauses or haltings. This is the energy of connecting.
（三）黏者。粘貼之謂。彼進我退。彼退我進。彼浮我隨。彼沉我鬆。丢之不開。投之不脫。如粘如貼。不丢不頂。是謂之黏勁。 3. To adhere means to “be glued”. As he advances, retreat. As he retreats, advance. When he is floating, follow. When he is sinking, loosen. He tries to disconnect but cannot come away. He tries to cast you off but cannot escape. Stick as though glued to him, neither coming away nor crashing in. This is the energy of adhering.
（四）隨者。從也。緩急相隨。進退相依。不卽不離。不先不後。捨己從人。是謂之隨。 4. Following means to “go along with”. Match the opponent’s speed. Coordinate with his advancing and retreating, neither overreaching nor separating. Without acting before or after, let go of yourself and go along with him. This is the energy of following.
（五）不丢頂。丢者開也。頂者抵也。不脫離。不抵抗。不搶先。不落後。五行之源。輕靈之本。是為不丢頂勁。 5. Neither come away nor crash in. Coming away means separating. Crashing in means resisting. Neither separate nor resist. Do not force your way ahead nor lag behind. The key to the rest of the five elements, and the basis of sensitivity, is the energy of neither coming away nor crashing in.
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八法祕訣 [FOUR] SECRETS OF THE EIGHT TECHNIQUES
掤勁義何解。如水負行舟。先實丹田氣。次要頂頭懸。全體彈簧力。開合一定間。任有千斤重。飄浮亦不難。 What is meant by “warding off”? It is like water floating a moving boat. First fill your elixir field with energy, then you must suspend your headtop. Your whole body has a springy force in the instant between opening and closing. Do not worry about a thousand pounds of force coming at you. Just float it and there will be no problem.
捋勁義何解。引導使之前。順其來時力。輕靈不丢頂。力盡自然空。丢擊任自然。重心自維持。莫被他人乘。 What is meant by “rolling back”? Induce the opponent to come forward. Then go along with his incoming force, but staying nimble, neither coming away nor crashing in. Once his power has naturally dissipated, then you may disconnect and attack as you please. Maintain your own balance so that you do not instead become his victim.
擠勁義何解。用時有兩方。直接單純意。迎合一動中。間接反應力。如球撞壁還。又如錢投鼓。躍然聲鏗鏘。 What is meant by “pressing”? There are two ways to apply it. You may act directly from your own clear intention, dealing with him in a single action. Or you may act indirectly, reacting to his force, which will make him like a ball bouncing off a wall, or like a coin tossed onto a drum that then leaps away with a chiming sound.
按勁義何解。運用似水行。柔中寓剛强。急流勢難當。遇高則澎滿。逢窪向下潛。波浪有起伏。有孔無不入。 What is meant by “pushing”? It is like flowing water. Within its softness lurks hardness. Is it not difficult to stay up when standing in rapids? Meeting a tall obstacle, water swells up heavily. Finding a hole, it floods down into it. Waves rise and fall. There is no gap that water does not enter.
採勁義何解。如權之引衡。任你力巨細。權後知輕重。轉移祗四兩。千斤亦可平。若問理何在。幹捍之作用。 What is meant by “plucking”? It is like the counterpoise of a steelyard scale sliding out to balance something. No matter how great or small the opponent’s force is, you will know the weight of it once it is balanced. Even the shifting of a mere four ounces can balance out a thousand pounds. What is the theory behind this? That of the lever.
挒勁義何解。旋轉若飛輪。投物於其上。脫然擲丈尋。君不見漩渦。捲浪若螺紋。落葉墮其上。倐爾便沉淪。 What is meant by “rending”? It rotates like a flywheel. Throw an object at it and it will immediately be hurled over ten feet away. Have you ever watched a whirlpool? The waves curl in like the threads around a screw. Any leaf that falls onto it is quickly engulfed.
肘勁義何解。方法有五行。陰陽分上下。虛實須辨淸。連環勢莫擋。開花捶更凶。六勁融通後。運用始無窮。 What is meant by “elbowing”? The technique contains the five elements. The passive and active aspects will be revealed above and below. Emptiness and fullness have to be clearly distinguished. Continuous techniques are harder to defend against. A “blooming-flower punch” [i.e. a backfist unfurling out of a stopped elbow attack] is even more brutal [than the prevented elbow would have been on its own]. Once your “six energies” [of structure (supporting forward and back, left and right, up and down)] are unified, you will be able to apply endless techniques.
靠勁義何解。其法分肩背。斜飛勢用肩。肩中還有背。一旦得機勢。轟然如搗碓。仔細維重心。失中徒無功。 What is meant by “bumping”? The technique divides into using the shoulder or the back. The DIAGONAL FLYING POSTURE uses the shoulder, but when using your shoulder, you can also continue into using your back. If suddenly you have the opportunity, crash into him as though you are collapsing onto him. But be very mindful about maintaining your balance, for if you lose it, you will have wasted your effort.
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慢與不用力之解釋 [FIVE] EXPLAINING WHY THE ART IS DONE SLOWLY AND WITHOUT EXERTION
太極拳慢而無力。學者多懷疑之。或謂不能用。徒能鍛鍊身體。蓋練拳之道。首宜研究學理。學理瞭然。再學方法。方法精熟。始能應用。非拳術之不能應用。實功夫之尚未練到耳。如鍊鋼然。由生鐵。而鍊成熟鐵。由熟鐵。而鍊成純鋼。非經過長時間之火候不為功。夫太極拳之所以由慢而成者。其練習時間。純任自然。不尚力氣。而尚用意。用力則笨。用氣則滯。是以沉氣鬆力為要。太極拳。以靜制動。以柔制剛。無中生有。有若無。實若虛。逆來順受。不丢不頂。均係虛實之變化也。慢者緩也。慢所以靜。靜所以守。守之謂定。此卽心氣之中定也。心定而後靜。靜而後神安。神安而後氣沉。氣沉而後精神團聚。乃能聚精會神。一氣貫通。慢由於心細。心細則神淸。神淸則氣爽。乃無氣滯之弊。快由於心粗。心粗由於急。急則氣浮。氣浮不沉。心急不靜。不沉不靜。心無所守。則散亂之病生。虛靈二字。更無由求。以靜制動。以柔制剛者。由於感覺使然。故其拳架係鍛鍊身心以為體。功夫出自推手而為用。推手之初步。專在摩練感覺。身有所感。心有所覺。感應精微。致用無窮。故能知己知彼。其滋味則心領神會。非筆墨所能形容。其變化之無窮。皆由感覺之靈敏。故能知其虛實。而便利從心。此慢與不用力之義也。 Because Taiji Boxing is performed slowly and without exertion, students often doubt it. Or they will say that it cannot be applied and is only good for training the body. To train in the ways of this art, you should start with the principles. Once the principles are understood, then learn the techniques. Once you are skillful with the techniques, you will then be able to apply the art. It is not that the art is not applicable, it is just that skill has not yet been trained. It is like the process of steelmaking. First pig iron is smelted to produce wrought iron, then wrought iron is further smelted to make pure steel. If you do not go through a similar process of “cooking” yourself with the training over a long period, you will not develop any skill. Taiji Boxing is done slowly because there has to be a pure naturalness while practicing. Do not rely on strength and vigor, instead make use of intention. Using strength will only make you clumsier. Using vigor will only end up making your movements sluggish. Therefore you should sink your energy and relax your strength. Taiji Boxing uses stillness to control movement, softness to control hardness. There is a something that arises from nothing, a something that still seems to be nothing, a fullness that seems to be empty. Go along with whatever comes at you, neither coming away from it nor crashing into it. This has to do with the alternations between emptiness and fullness. By “slow” is meant leisurely. By moving slowly, you will have a sense of stillness, which will lead to a sense of maintaining your state, which is called “stability”. This is the centered stability of mind and energy. Once your mind is stable, there is quietude. Once there is quietude, your spirit is calm. Once your spirit is calm, then energy sinks. With your energy sinking, then essence and spirit gather and unite. Able to concentrate essence and spirit, there will be a single flow running through the movement. Slowness comes from being meticulous. With that level of careful attention, your spirit will be clear. Once your spirit is clear, your energy will be clean, and thereby free of the error of sluggishness. Moving fast comes from being careless. Carelessness comes from being in a hurry. When your mind is in a hurry, your energy will be floating rather than sinking. With your mind in a hurry and your energy not sinking, there will be no sense of stillness and you will be unable to maintain stability, which will then generate the error of panic, and there will be no longer be a way to operate from a state of naturalness. Using stillness to control movement and using softness to control hardness depend on sensitivity. The foundation of the art lies in the training of body and mind that occurs through doing the solo set, but the function lies in the skill that comes from doing pushing hands. In the beginning of learning pushing hands, focus on developing sensitivity. Body feels, mind perceives. Once your responses to what you sense are refined and subtle, applicability will be limitless, and you will truly be able to know both self and opponent. (This is an experience that will be understood instinctively and is not really something that can be put into words.) The limitlessness of adaptability comes from the acuteness of one’s sensitivity. Therefore if you can know where your opponent is empty and full, you will easily be able to do as you please. This is the significance of slowness and not using exertion.
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中定 [SIX] CENTERED STABILITY
伸屈開合之未發謂之中。寂然不動謂之定。心氣淸和。精神貫頂。不偏不倚。是為中定之氣。亦道之本也。 Before you have expressed any extending or bending, opening or closing, you are in a state of being centered. When you are [quoting from part 10 of the commentary section of the Book of Changes:] “[without thought, without action,] silent and still”, you are in a state of stability. When your mind is clear and your energy is harmonious, spirit is coursing through to your headtop, and you are not leaning in any direction, this is the state of “centered stability”, which also happens to be the whole foundation of the art.
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虛領頂勁 [SEVEN] FORCELESSLY PRESS UP YOUR HEADTOP
頂勁者。卽頂頭懸。頭頂正直。腹內鬆淨。氣沉丹田。精神貫頂。如不倒翁。上輕下沉。又如水中浮瓢。漂然不沒之意。歌曰。 To “press up your headtop” means that your “headtop is pulled up as if suspended”. With your headtop upright, your belly can be completely relaxed. Energy will sink to your elixir field and spirit will course through to your headtop. You will be like a round-bottomed doll, light above, heavy below, or like a buoy that stays afloat on the water rather than vanishing under the surface. Here is a poem on the subject:
神淸氣沉任自然。漂漂盪盪浪裏攢。憑你風浪來推打。上輕下沉不倒顚。 With your mind clear and your energy sinking, you will move with naturalness, despite being buffeted by winds and waves. No matter what difficulties push and punch at you, you will remain light above and heavy below, and thus you will not be toppled over.
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感覺 [EIGHT] SENSITIVITY
身有所感。心有所覺。有感必有應。一切動靜皆為感。感則必有應。所應復為感。所感復有應。所以互生不已。感通之理。精義入微。以致用也。推手初步。專在摩練感覺。感覺靈敏。則變化精微。所以無窮也。 When your body feels something, your mind then perceives it, and thus whenever you have any sensation, it will cause you to react to it. At every moment, whether you are in a state of movement or stillness, there will be something to feel, and therefore there will also be something to react to. Your response will create new sensations, and those sensations will in turn produce new responses, and in this way they give rise to each other ceaselessly. The concept of sensing what is going on is essential for being able to apply techniques. In the beginning of training in pushing hands, focus on developing sensitivity. Once your sensitivity is acute, your adaptability will be profound, and then you will have no limitations.
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聽勁 [NINE] LISTENING TO ENERGY
聽之謂權。卽權其輕重也。在推手為偵察敵情。聽之於心。凝之於耳。行之於氣。運之於手。所謂以心行意。以意行氣。以氣運身。聽而後發。聽勁要準確靈敏。隨其伸。就其屈。乃能進退自如。 To “listen” means to weigh, as in assessing whether the opponent is being light or heavy. Listening in pushing hands is like the scout who reconnoiters the enemy’s situation. Listening lies in your mind, whereas focusing your attention is what is carried out by your ears. Moving lies with your energy, whereas wielding techniques is what is carried out by your hands. It is said: “Use the mind to move intention. Use intention to move energy. Use energy to move the body.” Therefore listen first and then issue. When listening to energy, you have to have accuracy and sensitivity. Go along with the opponent’s extending, then move in toward his bending. Thus you will be able to advance and retreat smoothly.
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問答 [TEN] ASKING & ANSWERING
我有所問。彼有所答。一問一答。則生動靜。旣有動靜。虛實分明。在推手則以意探之。以勁問之。俟其答復。再聽其虛實。若問而不答。則可進而擊之。若有所答。則須聽其動靜之緩急。及進退之方向。始能辨其虛實也。 I “ask” for information. The opponent supplies the answer. Each exchange of asking and answering will spark movement or stillness. Once there is any kind of movement, emptiness and fullness will become distinct. While pushing hands, use intention to probe the situation and use energy to ask the opponent what he is doing. Await his answer, listening for where he is empty and full. If you ask and there is no answer, then you can advance and attack. If there is an answer, then you must listen for the speed of his movement and the direction of his advance or retreat in order to be able to distinguish where he is empty and full.
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虛實 [ELEVEN] EMPTINESS & FULLNESS
兵不厭詐。以計勝人也。計者虛實之謂。拳術亦然。姿勢，動作，用意，運勁。各有虛實。知虛實而善利用。雖虛為實。雖實猶虛。以實擊虛。避實擊虛。指上打下。聲東擊西。或先重而後輕。或先輕而後重。隱現無常。沉浮不定。使敵不知吾之虛實。而吾處處求敵之虛實。彼實則避之。彼虛則擊之。隨機應變。聽其勁。觀其動。得其機。攻其勢。如醫者視病而投藥。必先診其脈。觀其色。察其聲。問其症。故曰。虛實宜分淸楚。一處自有一處虛實。處處總此一虛實也。 Armies do not mind cheating [“All’s fair in war.”] and will use strategies to defeat the enemy. Such tricks are what is meant by “emptiness and fullness”. [In fact the sixth chapter of the Art of War is titled “Emptiness & Fullness”. The term could also be rendered as “fake and real”.] The same is true in boxing arts. Postures, movements, intentions, energies – they all have an element of emptiness and fullness. Understand emptiness and fullness, and be good at making use of them. Being empty, become full. Becoming full, seem still to be empty. Attack a place of emptiness by filling it in. Avoid a place of fullness by emptying. Aim above and then strike below, applying the strategy of “threatening to the east but striking to the west”. Start with heaviness and then become light, or start with lightness and then become heavy. Disappear and appear inconstantly. Sink and float unpredictably. This causes the opponent to never know where you are empty and full, whereas you can always find his emptiness and fullness. Avoid him where he is full and attack him where he is empty, responding according to the situation. Listen to his energy, observe his movement, catch his timing, and attack his position. It is like a doctor examining a patient. He first has to check his pulse, observe his complexion, listen to his body’s sounds, and ask about symptoms, and then he will be able to prescribe the right medicine. Thus it is said: “Empty and full must be distinguished clearly. In each part there is a part that is empty and a part that is full. Everywhere it is always like this, an emptiness and a fullness.”
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量敵 [TWELVE] ESTIMATING THE OPPONENT
兵法云。知己知彼。百戰百勝。是故整軍行旅之初。當先審己量敵。而計其勝負之情也。誠哉斯言。勝負之機。在知與不知耳。拳雖小道。其理亦然。以已之短。當人之長。謂之失計。以己之長。當人之短。謂之得計。取勝之道。在得失之間。故量敵最關重要也。 太極拳之所謂間答。卽問其動靜。目的在聽其勁之方向與重心。卽偵察敵情之意。所謂量敵也。彼我在未進行攻擊以前。吾應以靜待動。以逸待勞。毫無成見。彼未動。我不動。彼微動。我先動。貴在彼我相交一動之間。卽知其虛實而應付之。此均由於感覺。聽勁，虛實，問答，量敵，而來。學者應注意致力焉。 It says in the Art of War [chapter 3]: “Knowing both self and opponent, in a hundred battles you will have a hundred victories.” True words indeed. Before preparing to mobilize, it is necessary to first take stock both of one’s own forces and the enemy’s situation in order to calculate how to defeat him. The difference between success or failure is a matter of knowledge versus ignorance. Although a boxing art is a lesser art, the same principle still applies. If you use your weaknesses to attack his strengths, you will lose, but if you use your strengths to attack his weaknesses, you will win. The means to victory lies on a fine line between winning and losing, therefore estimating the opponent is crucial to tip the balance. In Taiji Boxing’s “asking and answering”, inquire into the state of his movement or stillness, the purpose being to “listen” for the direction of his energy and the position of his center of balance. Estimating the opponent is therefore the same idea as reconnoitering the enemy’s situation. Before you and he and have advanced to attack each other, you should be using stillness to await his movement, using leisure to await his fatigue, and be entirely without any certainties as to what he is going to do. “If he takes no action, I take no action, but once he takes even the slightest action, I have already acted.” It is vital in the moment you connect that you learn the status of his emptiness and fullness in order to deal with it. To estimate the opponent is all down to sensitivity, listening to energy, asking and answering, and emptiness and fullness. You have to devote your attention to it.
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知機 [THIRTEEN] KNOWING THE RIGHT MOMENT
機者。陰陽未分。虛無緲茫。謂之機。先機之謂也。卽是無聲無臭。無形無象。在應用時。是未有動靜。未成姿勢。是無機會也。工夫高者。皆能知機。能知機。能造勢。所謂無中生有。乘機而動。下者。不知機。故不得勢。所謂先知先覺。後知後覺。不知不覺。此為吾道之三大境界。凡屬吾門。一經推手。自然領會。彼我之高下。無須相角勝負。譬如圍棋。高者每下一子。皆有用意。眼光遠大。着不虛發。氣俱聯貫。而占局勢。其勝負之情己定。下者。眼光淺近。心無成竹。不得先手。隨人擺脫。而自顧不暇。其必敗也已知。推手之理亦然。高者。心氣沉靜。姿態大雅。逆來順受。運用自如。下者。進則無門。退則無路。攻之不可。守之無術。此卽知機與不知機之分耳。 The decisive moment is before passive and active qualities have become distinct, while they are still a vagueness in a void. Thus the right moment is: right before it happens. It is silent and intangible, formless and shapeless. When applying a technique, do it before the opponent moves, before he has a definite posture, when he still has no opportunity. One who is highly skilled is always able to know the right moment, and so he is able to create the right position. While something emerges from nothing, he takes advantage of an opportunity and acts. One who has a low level of skill does not know the right moment and therefore cannot get into the right position. It is said that to know before, to realize after, and to not notice at all are the three main skill levels in our art [in descending order]. When someone in our art has gone through the process of training in pushing hands, he immediately knows if his opponent has a higher or lower skill level than himself and does not need to wrestle to find out. For an analogy, it is like encirclement chess. When one who is highly skilled puts down a piece, it is always with purpose. He sees many moves in advance, and so he always moves with precision and his energy flows through every step of the process. He is able to predict everything that will happen, and so victory and defeat are already clear to him. One who has a low level of skill does not see far ahead and has no plan in mind at all [“a mind without a finished bamboo” – the phrase originally describing a painter who simply starts painting an image without having a sense of what the finished product should look like]. Unable to go on the offensive, he merely responds to whatever move the opponent has just made. As he is kept too busy with just keeping up, his defeat is already certain. The same principle applies in pushing hands. One who is highly skilled has a calm mind, a settled energy, and an elegant demeanor. He receives whatever comes at him and deals with it smoothly. One who has a low level of skill has no path of advance or retreat and no way to attack or defend. This is the difference between understanding timing and not understanding timing.
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重心 [FOURTEEN] THE CENTER OF BALANCE
凡人有四肢軀幹。頭為首。其站立俯仰。亦各有姿勢。姿勢立。則生重心。重心穩固。所謂得機得勢。重心失中。乃有顚倒之虞。卽不得機。不得勢也。拳術，功用之基礎。則在重心之穩固與否。而重心又有固定與活動之分。固定者。是專主自己練習拳術之時。每一動作。一姿勢。均須時時注意之。或轉動。或進退皆然。重心與虛實本屬一體。虛實能變換無常。重心則不然。雖能移動。因係全體之主宰。不能輕舉妄動。使敵知吾虛實。又如作戰然。心為令。氣為旗。腰為纛。太極拳以勁為戰術。虛實為戰畧。意氣為指揮。聽勁為間牒。重心為主帥。學者。應時時揣摸默識體會之。此為斯道全體大用也。重心活動之謂。係在彼我相較之間。雖在决鬥之中。必須時時維持自己之重心。而攻擊他人之重心。卽堅守全軍之司令。而不使主帥有所失利也。 A person has four limbs and a trunk, led by the head. The positions of standing straight, leaning slightly forward, and leaning slightly back each have particular postures that go with them. Once in a posture, it will produce a center of balance. When your balance is solid, you will be in the right place at the right time. When you lose your center of balance, you will be in danger of falling into disorder, and you will end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. The whole basis of applying a boxing art comes down to whether or not your balance is stable. But there is also the distinction between stability and maneuverability. As for stability, every movement and posture during the solo practice has to be given attention. Sometimes you will be advancing, sometimes retreating, sometimes turning, and this will involve your center of gravity in the workings of emptiness and fullness. Emptiness and fullness can alternate inconstantly, but your center of balance has to stay stable because it is in charge of your whole body even when you are shifting positions. You must not act rashly, which would cause the opponent to know the status of your emptiness and fullness. A fight is like a battle. “The mind makes the command, the energy is its flag, and the waist is its banner.” Taiji Boxing is like a military operation in this way: it is emptiness and fullness that forms the strategy, it is intention that sends the commands, it is listening that gathers intelligence, and your center of balance is the commander. You should constantly contemplate what you experience, for this will make the art complete in terms of both foundation and function. Maneuverability has to do with when you are competing with an opponent. Although in the midst of a struggle, you must at all times preserve your own center of balance and attack his. This is like protecting the commander of an army. Do not allow your general to fall.
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雙重 [FIFTEEN] ON DOUBLE PRESSURE
雙重者。無虛實之謂也。雙重之病。有單方。與雙方及兩手兩足之分。經云。偏沉則隨。雙重則滯。又云，有數年純功而不能運化者。率為人制。雙重之病未悟耳。故雙重之病。最難自悟自覺。非知虛實之理。不易避免。能解此病。則聽勁，感覺，虛實，問答，皆能融會貫通焉。脚踏車之所以能行動灣轉自如者。均力學也。人坐於車上。手拂之。足踏之。目視之。身隨之。其重心在腰。而司顧盼，以手輔助之。其輪盤置於車之中心。兩足踏於脚蹬之上。一踏一提。則輪齒絞練而帶動前進矣。若使兩足同時用力踏之。則車卽行停止前進。此蓋雙重之病耳。 夫推手亦然。對方用力推我。吾若仍以力相抵抗之。因而相持。則謂之滯。此卽双方之双重也。若我或彼。各順其勢。不以力抵抗。而順對方來力之方向撤囘。引之前進。然須不丢不頂。則必有一方之力落空。此卽偏沉所致。如我擬攻對方之側面。使其倒地。若以兩手直接推之。而對方氣力强大。不可挫其鋒。須以虛實之法。雙手撫其肩。我左手由彼之右肩下捋。同時我右手擊其左肩。此時我之兩手作交叉之勢。同主一方。而發勁成一圜形。則彼可側斜而倒。因彼同時不能上下相顧。而失利也。此卽吾發勁偏沉所致也。學者悟一而知十。所謂由着熟。而漸悟懂勁也。 “Double pressure” means that there is no distinction between emptiness and fullness. The error of double pressure is divided into occurring on one side [resisting against the opponent with one hand while in a bow stance], occurring on both sides [resisting against the opponent with both hands while in a bow stance], and occurring in both hands and both feet all at the same time [resisting against the opponent with both hands while facing him squarely in a horse-riding stance]. It says in the Classic: “If you drop one side, you can move. If you have equal pressure on both sides, you will be stuck.” And also: “We often see one who has practiced hard for many years yet is unable to perform any neutralizations and is generally under the opponent’s control, and the issue here is that this error of double pressure has not yet been understood.” Therefore the error of double pressure is very difficult to comprehend, much less be aware of, and if you do not understand the principle of emptiness and fullness, it will not be easy to avoid. But you can fix this problem by way of sensitivity, listening to energy, asking and answering, and emptiness and fullness, all of which are tools that will help you through to success. The reason a bicycle can move smoothly is all a matter of the science of mechanics. You sit on the seat, hands on the handlebars, feet on the pedals. Your eyes are looking ahead of you, body following, your center of balance in your waist. You control your movement side to side with the assistance of your hands, the steering pivot placed at the centerline of the bicycle. Your feet are on the pedals, one foot pressing down as the other is rising up, causing the gearing teeth to twine the chain around, thereby leading the bicycle forward. But if both feet press down at the same time, the bicycle will come to a halt. This is due to the error of double pressure. [This analogy is weakened because Wu is describing a foot-braking bicycle as opposed to one with the hand-braking system that is far more common nowadays, but the essential idea is still a good one: if you push along one side of a wheel, it will rotate, but if you push in the same direction along both sides, it will stop rotating.] The same principle applies to pushing hands. If the opponent uses strength to push you and you also use strength to resist against him, you will both become stuck in a stalemate. This is a situation of double pressure on both sides. If either of you instead goes along with the incoming force, there will be no resistance. If you withdraw in the direction of his incoming force, it will draw him forward. As long as you are “neither coming away nor crashing in”, this will cause his force on one side to fall into emptiness. This is the result of “dropping one side”. [Returning to the wheel analogy, the effect is the same as pushing along both sides of a wheel and then taking one hand away, causing the wheel to again rotate.] Suppose you want to make the opponent topple by attacking him from the side. You might try to do a direct push, even with both hands, but if he has great strength, you will not be able to upset his structure. Instead you have to use the principle of emptiness and fullness. With both hands touching his shoulders, your left hand does a rollback below his right shoulder and your right hand at the same time attacks his left shoulder. Your hands are now forming a crossed position as they come into line with each other and you issue power along a curve, causing him to be leaned aside and fall away. The reason this occurs is because he is unable to coordinate his upper body with his lower body and thus ends up in a disadvantageous position. This is the result of issuing power on one side while dropping the other side [your right hand expressing while your left hand is rolling back.] If you can grasp this one technique [being the rending technique], you will understand the rest. [Lun Yu, 5.8: “After learning just one thing, he knows ten.”] Thus it is said: “Once you have ingrained these techniques, you will gradually come to identify energies.”
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捨己從人 [SIXTEEN] LET GO OF YOURSELF AND FOLLOW THE OPPONENT
捨己從人。是捨棄自己的主張。而依從他人動作。在太極拳中。為最難能之事。因兩人在交手之時。勝負之觀念重。彼我决不相容。何况互相攻擊。或在相持之中。而棄其權利。所謂捨己從人。不僅作字面解釋而矣。在吾道中。其寓意至深。學者當於惟務養性。四字下功夫。經云。無極而生。動靜之機。陰陽之母也。動靜為性。陰陽為理。故性理為道之本源。養性之說。是學者應時時致力修養。潛心揣摩。心領神會。久之自能豁然貫通矣。又云。由着熟而漸悟懂勁。懂勁後而階及神明。此乃循環之理。歸宗之意。蓋所謂超以象外。得其寰中。功夫練到精微。能造機造勢。不愁無得機得勢處。能處處隨曲就伸。則無往不利。如此乃能捨己從人。 To “let go of yourself and follow the opponent” means to abandon your own plans and act in accordance with his movement. This is the most difficult thing to do in Taiji Boxing, because when two people cross hands, the idea of winning or losing gains weight. You and the opponent are entirely at odds with each other, and moreover trying to attack one another, and so you may become locked in a stalemate until one of you gives up. Thus it is said: “Let go of yourself and follow the opponent.” But this phrase is not used in its literal meaning. Within our art, it goes a little deeper than that. Students should restrain themselves, training with the mantra of “I will let go of myself and follow the opponent” in mind. It says in the Classic: “Taiji is born of wuji. It is the manifestation of movement and stillness, giving rise to the passive and active aspects.” “Movement and stillness” are the physical embodiment. “Passive and active” are the philosophical principle. The embodiment and the principle form the basis of the art. Self-restraint requires constant dedication, concentration, and instinct. After a long time, you will naturally become ready for it to suddenly all make sense to you. It also says: “Once you have ingrained these techniques, you will gradually come to identify energies, and then from there you will work your way toward something miraculous.” This is the cyclic principle, the idea of “returning home”, as is expressed by [quoting from Sikong Tu’s The Twenty-Four Kinds of Poetry, poem 1]: “Transcend external appearances and obtain the center of the world.” [This quote is itself drawing from Zhuangzi, chapter 2: “Obtain the center of the circle and from there respond limitlessly.”] Once your skill is refined, you will be able to produce the right timing and the right position, and no longer have to worry about choosing the wrong moment or being in the wrong position. By always being able to “comply and bend, then engage and extend”, everything you try will work. It is in this sense that you will have the ability of letting go of yourself and following the opponent.
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鼓盪 [SEVENTEEN] “AGITATE, AGITATE, AGITATE!”
氣沉，腰鬆，腹淨，含胸，拔背，沉肩，垂肘，節節舒展。動之。靜之。虛之。實之。呼之。吸之。開之。合之。剛之。柔之。緩之。急之。此種混合之勁。乃是鼓盪也。是故以心行意。以意行氣。以氣運身。乃生鼓盪之勁。由心氣貫串。陰陽變化而來。如颶風駭浪。雲行水流。如鳶飛魚躍。兔起鶻落。載沉載浮。忽隱忽現。大氣鼓盪。風雲莫測者也。太極推手。最後工夫有爛採花者。「又名採浪花」。全以鼓盪之勁。鼓動對方。使之如海船遇風。出入波濤之中。眩暈無主。頃斜顚簸。自身重心。難以捉摸。卽鼓盪之作用也。 Sink your energy, loosen your waist, and relax your belly. Contain your chest and pluck up your back. Sink your shoulders and droop your elbows. Stretch out each joint one after another. And then, move and be still, empty and fill, inhale and exhale, open and close, use hardness and use softness, move slow and move quick, and so on. The mixing of such opposites is what it means to agitate. Start with: “Use the mind to move intention. Use intention to move energy. Use energy to move the body.” Then develop an agitating energy. With mind and energy coursing through, let passive and active switch back and forth. Be like a hurricane forming, waves crashing, clouds rolling, water flowing, or like a hawk soaring, a fish leaping, a rabbit bolting, a falcon diving. Suddenly sink and suddenly rise. Suddenly hide and suddenly appear. Like changes in the weather, be as unpredictable as wind and clouds. The final exercise in Taiji’s pushing hands is “plucking random flowers” [i.e. freeplay] (also called “plucking at the sea spray”), and is entirely composed of agitation. Agitate the opponent, causing him to be like a boat on the sea encountering a storm and getting tossed around by the waves. Make him dizzy and disoriented, wobbly and jolted, and keep your own center of balance impossible for him to find. This is the function of agitation.
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基礎 [EIGHTEEN] FUNDAMENTALS
太極拳以拳架為體。以推手為用。在初學盤架時。基礎最關重要。其姿勢務求正確。而中正安舒。其動作必須緩和。而輕靈圓活。此係入門之徑。學者循序而進。不致妄費功夫。而得其捷徑也。 In Taiji Boxing, the solo set is the foundation and the pushing hands training is the function. In the beginning of learning the solo set, the key fundamentals are: the postures should be accurate, meaning that they should be centered and upright, calm and comfortable; and the movements should be moderate, meaning that they should be light and sensitive, rounded and lively. These things form a pathway into the art. If you progress through them in the proper sequence, the result will not be that have wasted your time, and instead will turn out to be a shortcut.
中者。心氣中和。神淸氣沉。其根在脚。卽是立點。重心繫於腰脊。所謂命意源頭在腰隙。精神含歛於內。不表於外。乃能中定沉靜矣。 Centered: having a sense of your mind and energy being in state of harmoniousness. Your mind is clear and your energy is sinking. Techniques are rooted in your feet, being what you are standing on. Your center of balance then lies in your lower back, as is indicated by “the command comes from your lower back”. With spirit contained within rather than exhibited externally, you will thus be able to be centered and calm.
正者。姿勢端正。每一姿勢。務宜端正。而忌偏斜。然各種姿勢。各不相同。或仰，或俯，或伸。或屈。非盡中正。是以其發勁。及其用意之方向。而求其重心。蓋重心為全體樞紐。重心立。則開合靈活自如。重心不立。則開合失其關鍵。如車軸為車輪之樞紐。若使車軸。置於偏斜。而不適於車身之重心處。則車輪轉動。進退失其效用矣。故拳架之姿勢。務求正確。則重心平穩。要不自牽扯其重心。而辯別虛實也。 Upright: having a sense of your posture being properly aligned. Every posture should be performed with accuracy, never misaligned. However, each posture is different. Sometimes there is a forward lean, a backward lean, a reaching out, a bending in, not entirely centered or entirely upright. Therefore you have to seek to be balanced in the context of issuing power and the direction that you are sending your intention. Your “center of balance” is your body’s pivot point. When your center of balance is right, then you can open and close with nimbleness and naturalness. When your center of balance is off, then all of your openings and closings will have no leverage. This is like a wheel spinning around an axle. If the wheel is installed at an improper angle, it will not be suitable for supporting the weight of the car, and the turning of the wheel will not effectively move the car either forward or in reverse. Therefore the postures in the boxing set need to be accurate and your center of balance needs to be stable. Only when your posture is not impeding your balance will you be in a position to distinguish between emptiness and fullness.
安者。安然之意。切忌牽强。由自然之中。得其安適。乃無氣滯之弊。而能氣遍身軀矣。此由於姿勢安穩動作均匀。呼吸平和。神氣鎭靜所致。 Calm: having a sense of peacefulness. Avoid forcing yourself. Starting from a state of naturalness, seek to become comfortable. You will then be without the error of energy stagnating and instead energy will be able to move throughout your body. This is because your postures are stable, your movements are even, and your breath is gentle, and the result will be that your spirit is calm.
舒者。舒展之謂。故云先求開展。後求緊凑。初學盤架時。姿勢動作。務求開展。使全體關節。節節舒展之。然非故意用力伸張筋骨。於自然之中。徐徐鬆展。久之自然鬆活沉着矣。 Comfortable: having a sense of being stretched out. It is said: “First strive to open up, then strive to close up.” When beginning to learn the solo set, the postures and movements should all be opened up, causing every joint in the body to get stretched one after another. However, this is not a matter of deliberately using any effort to extend the sinews and bones, just naturally and gradually loosening. Then after a long time, you will easily feel very relaxed and settled.
輕者。輕虛之意。然忌漂浮。在盤架時。動作要輕靈而和緩。往復乃能自如。久之自生鬆活之勁。進而生粘黏之勁。故輕字是練太極拳下手之處。入門之途徑。 Light: having a ghostly lightness of touch. This does not mean that you are floating up. When going through the solo set, the movement should be delicate and gentle, and then you will be able to go back and forth smoothly. After a long time, you will naturally develop an energy that is loose and lively, and then you will progress to having an energy that is sticking and adhering. Thus the concept of “lightness” is an important ingredient to have when you set about learning Taiji Boxing, providing a way into the art.
靈者。靈敏之謂。由輕虛而鬆沉。由鬆沉而粘黏。能粘黏。卽能連隨。能連隨。而後方能靈敏。則可悟及不丟不頂矣。 Sensitive: having a keen awareness. From having a ghostly lightness will come relaxing and sinking. From relaxing and sinking will come sticking and adhering. Able to stick and adhere, you will be able to connect and follow. Able to connect and follow, you will then be able to be keenly aware. And you will then be capable of comprehending the concept of “neither coming away nor crashing in”.
圓者。圓滿之謂。每一姿勢一動作。務求圓滿。而無缺陷。則能完整一氣。而免凸凹斷續之病。推手運用各勁。非圓不靈。能圓則活。處處能圓。則無往不利。 Rounded: having a sense of completeness in the movements. In every posture and movement, strive to have a rounded fullness, without any cracks or gaps, and then you will able to have a single flow all the way through. Avoid the errors of having pits or protrusions anywhere, or any breaks in the flow. In the pushing hands techniques, if there is no roundness, you will lack sensitivity, whereas if your movements can be rounded, there will then be a liveliness. Always be able to be rounded, and then you will always be victorious.
活者。靈活之謂。無笨重遲滯之意。上述各節。貫通後。則伸屈開合。進退俯仰。無不自由。所謂能呼吸。而後能靈活也。 Lively: having a sense of flexibility in the movements. The idea is that you lack clumsiness or sluggishness. Once you have thoroughly understood the rest of the points above, then extending and bending, opening and closing, advancing and retreating, leaning forward or back, will all be performed with great freedom of movement. When all is said and done, “your ability to be nimble lies in your ability to breathe”.
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授受 [NINETEEN] ON GIVING INSTRUCTION
夫人之性情。各有不同。大抵可分為兩種。曰剛，與柔，是也。剛性急而烈。上者為强。下者為暴。强者喜爭。故其學拳時多務於剛。以其性喜爭强鬥勝。不屈人下也。柔者性和而順。上者心氣中和而篤敬。故其學拳時。多務於柔。以其性喜和平多涵養也。暴者。性燥而魯莽。故其學拳時。專務於猛。而無精細之趣。柔之下者。性柔而弱。意志不强。少進取心。故其學拳時不求甚解。然武人貴志剛而性柔。有智，有仁，有勇。方為剛柔相濟。如此乃能進德修業矣。上述性別。關乎學者之本性。應注意之。學者以性情之不同。而所得結果亦異。間賞竊觀。學太極拳者。雖同一師承。而其拳之姿勢。與理論之解釋各異。因而遺下多少疑竇及誤會。凡此蓋亦教授者因其人之性情而授受之耳。所謂差之毫釐。謬以千里。故特表而出之。以解釋羣疑。而資參考焉。 Everyone has a different temperament. For the most part, there are two kinds of people: hard and soft. Hard people are impatient and intense. The best of them are merely forceful. Forceful people love to compete, and thus when learning a boxing art, they tend to emphasize hardness because they want to win and will not yield to other people. The worst of them they are outright violent. Violent people are crude and rash, and thus when learning a boxing art, they focus on fierceness and have no interest in precision. Soft people are mild and agreeable. The best of them are even-tempered and respectful, and thus when learning a boxing art they tend to emphasize softness because they want to diffuse situations and are full of patience. The worst of them overdo their softness to the point of weakness. They have no determination, no initiative, and thus when learning a boxing art, they do not strive for a thorough understanding. However, warriors value hardness of will and softness of temperament. Possessing the qualities of wisdom, compassion, and courage, they thus have a state of hardness and softness complementing each other. In this way, they are able to enhance their virtue and enrich their learning. Attention should be given to these two types of temperament, for students have different dispositions and consequently they will obtain different results. Observe them practicing and you will see that even if students of Taiji Boxing are learning from the same teacher, they are bound to perform the postures differently and have a different understanding of the principles. It is for this reason that there are many gaps and mistakes in the transmission of the art over generations, and it is generally due to teachers who have given instruction based on the student’s disposition [i.e. tailoring the art to fit the student instead of expecting the student to simply learn the art, and thereby unwittingly allowing the art to become altered for no legitimate reason]. As it is said: “Miss by an inch, lose by a mile.” This is why I have listed some of these differences of disposition above, to serve as a reference for clearing up such doubts.
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[APPENDICES – THE TAIJI CLASSICS]
太極拳論 [I] TAIJI BOXING TREATISE
一舉動。周身俱要輕靈。尤須貫串。氣宜鼓盪。神宜內歛。無使有缺陷處。無使有凸凹處。無使有斷續處。其根在脚。發於腿。主宰於腰。形於手指。由脚而腿而腰。總須完整一氣。向前退後。乃得機得勢。有不得機得勢處。身便散亂。其病必於腿腰求之。上下前後左右皆然。凡此皆是意。不在外面。有上卽有下。有前卽有後。有左卽有右。如意要向上。卽寓下意。若將物掀起而加以挫之之意。斯其根自斷。乃壞之速而無疑。虛實宜分淸楚。一處自有一處虛實。處處總此一虛實。周身節節貫串。無令絲毫間斷耳。 Once there is any movement, your entire body should have lightness and nimbleness. There especially needs to be connection from movement to movement. Energy should be roused and spirit should be collected within. Do not allow there to be cracks or gaps anywhere, pits or protrusions anywhere, breaks in the flow anywhere. Starting from your foot, issue power through your leg, directing it from your waist, and expressing it at your fingers. From foot through leg through waist, it must be a continuous process, and whether advancing or retreating, you will then catch the opportunity and gain the upper hand. If not and your body easily falls into disorder, the problem must be in your waist and legs, so look for it there. This is always so, regardless of the direction of the movement, be it up, down, forward, back, left, right. And in all of these cases, the problem is a matter of your intent and does not lie outside of you. With an upward comes a downward, with a forward comes a backward, and with a left comes a right. If your intention wants to go upward, then harbor a downward intention, like when you reach down to lift up an object. You thereby add a setback to the opponent’s own intention, thus he cuts his own root and is defeated quickly and certainly. Empty and full must be distinguished clearly. In each part there is a part that is empty and a part that is full. Everywhere it is always like this, an emptiness and a fullness. Throughout your body, as the movement goes from one section to another there has to be connection. Do not allow the slightest break in the connection.
長拳者。如長江大海。滔滔不絕也。十三勢者。掤，捋，擠，按，採，挒，肘，靠，此八卦也。進步，退步，左顧，右盼，中定，此五行也，掤，捋，擠，按，卽乾，坤，坎，離，四正方也。採，挒，肘，靠，卽巽，震，兌，艮，四斜角也。進，退，顧，盼，定，卽金，木，水，火，土也。（原注云此係武當山張三丰老師遺論欲天下豪傑延年益夀不徒作技藝之末也） Long Boxing: it is like a long river flowing into the wide ocean, on and on ceaselessly… The thirteen dynamics are: warding off, rolling back, pressing, pushing, plucking, rending, elbowing, and bumping – which relate to the eight trigrams:
☱ ☰ ☴ ☲ ☵ ☳ ☷ ☶
and advancing, retreating, stepping to the left, stepping to the right, and staying in the center – which relate to metal, wood, water, fire, and earth: the five elements. Warding off, rolling back, pressing, and pushing correspond to ☰, ☷, ☵, and ☲ in the four principle compass directions [meaning simply that these are the primary techniques]. Plucking, rending, elbowing, and bumping correspond to ☴, ☳, ☱, and ☶ in the four corner directions [i.e. are the secondary techniques]. Advancing, retreating, stepping to the left, stepping to the right, and staying in the center correspond to the five elements of metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. (A original note says: “This relates to the theory left to us from Zhang Sanfeng of Mt. Wudang. He wanted all the heroes in the world to live long and not merely gain martial skill.”)
太極拳經 山右王宗岳遺著 [II] TAIJI BOXING CLASSIC (by Wang Zongyue of Shanxi)
太極者。無極而生。動靜之機。陰陽之母也。動之則分。靜之則合。無過不及。隨曲就伸。人剛我柔謂之走。我順人背謂之黏。動急則急應。動緩則緩隨。雖變化萬端。而理為一貫。由着熟而漸悟懂勁。由懂勁而階及神明。然非用力之久。不能豁然貫通焉。虛領頂勁。氣沉丹田。不偏不倚。忽隱忽現。左重則左虛。右重則右虛。仰之則彌高。俯之則彌深。進之則愈長。退之則愈促。一羽不能加。蠅蟲不能落。人不知我。我獨知人。英雄所向無敵。蓋皆由此而及也。斯技旁門甚多。雖勢有區別。槪不外乎壯欺弱慢讓快耳。有力打無力。手慢讓手快。是皆先天自然之能。非關學力而有為也。察四兩撥千斤之句。顯非力勝。觀耄耋能禦衆之形。快何能為。立如平準。活如車輪。偏沈則隨。雙重則滯。每見數年純功。不能運化者。率皆自為人制。雙重之病未悟耳。欲避此病。須知陰陽。黏卽是走。走卽是黏。陰不離陽。陽不離陰。陰陽相濟。方為懂勁。懂勁後。愈練愈精。默識揣摩。漸至從心所欲。本是舍己從人。多誤舍近求遠。所謂差之毫釐。謬以千里。學者不可不詳辨焉。 Taiji [“grand polarity”] is born of wuji [“nonpolarity”]. It is the manifestation of movement and stillness, the mother of yin and yang [the passive and active aspects]. When there is movement, passive and active become distinct from each other. When there is stillness, they return to being indistinguishable. Neither going too far nor not far enough, comply and bend then engage and extend. He is hard while I am soft – this is yielding. My energy is smooth while his energy is coarse – this is sticking. If he moves fast, I quickly respond, and if his movement is slow, I leisurely follow. Although there is an endless variety of possible scenarios, there is only this single principle [of yielding and sticking] throughout. Once you have ingrained these techniques, you will gradually come to identify energies, and then from there you will gradually progress toward something miraculous. But unless you practice a lot over a long time, you will never have a breakthrough. Forcelessly press up your headtop. Energy sinks to your elixir field. Neither lean nor slant. Suddenly hide and suddenly appear. When there is pressure on the left, the left empties. When there is pressure on the right, the right disappears. When looking up, it is still higher. When looking down, it is still lower. When advancing, it is even farther. When retreating, it is even nearer. A feather cannot be added and a fly cannot land. The opponent does not understand me, only I understand him. A hero is one who encounters no opposition, and it is through this kind of method that such a condition is achieved. There are many other schools of boxing arts besides this one. Although the postures are different between them, they never go beyond the strong bullying the weak and the slow yielding to the fast. The strong beating the weak and the slow submitting to the fast are both a matter of inherent natural ability and bear no relation to skill that is learned. Examine the phrase “four ounces deflects a thousand pounds”, which is clearly not a victory obtained through strength. Or consider the sight of an old man repelling a group, which could not come from an aggressive speed. Stand like a scale. Move like a wheel. If you drop one side, you can move. If you have equal pressure on both sides, you will be stuck. We often see one who has practiced hard for many years yet is unable to perform any neutralizations, always under the opponent’s control, and the issue here is that this error of double pressure has not yet been understood. If you want to avoid this error, you must understand passive and active. In sticking there is yielding and in yielding there is sticking. The active does not depart from the passive and the passive does not depart from the active, for the passive and active exchange roles. Once you have this understanding, you will be identifying energies. Once you are identifying energies, then the more you practice, the more efficient your skill will be, and by absorbing through experience and by constantly contemplating, gradually you will reach the point that you can do whatever you want. The basic of basics is to forget about your plans and simply respond to the opponent. We often make the mistake of ignoring what is right in front of us in favor of something that has nothing to do with our immediate circumstances. For such situations it is said: “Miss by an inch, lose by a mile.” You must understand all this clearly.
十三勢歌 [III] THIRTEEN DYNAMICS SONG
十三勢勢莫輕視。命意源頭在腰隙。變轉虛實須留意。氣遍身軀不少滯。靜中觸動動猶靜。因敵變化示神奇。勢勢存心揆用意。得來不覺費功夫。刻刻留心在腰間。腹內鬆淨氣騰然。尾閭中正神貫頂。滿身輕利頂頭懸。仔細留心向推求。屈伸開合聽自由。入門引路須口授。功夫無息法自修。若言體用何為準。意氣君來骨肉臣。想推用意終何在。益夀延年不老春。歌兮歌兮百四十。字字真切義無遺。若不向此推求去。枉費功夫貽嘆惜。 Do not neglect any of the thirteen dynamics, their command coming from your lower back. You must pay attention to the alternation of empty and full, then energy will flow through your whole body without getting stuck anywhere. In stillness, movement stirs, and then in moving, seem yet to be in stillness, for the magic lies in making adjustments based on being receptive to the opponent. Posture by posture, stay mindful, observing intently. If something comes at you without your noticing it, you have been wasting your time. At every moment, pay attention to your waist, for if there is complete relaxation within your belly, energy is primed. Your tailbone is centered and spirit penetrates to your headtop, thus your whole body will be nimble and your headtop will be pulled up as if suspended. Pay careful attention in your practice that you are letting bending and extending, contracting and expanding, happen as the situation requires. Beginning the training requires personal instruction, but mastering the art depends on your own unceasing effort. Whether we are discussing in terms of theory or function, what is the constant? It is that mind is sovereign and body is subject. If you think about it, what is emphasizing the use of intention going to lead you to? To a longer life and a longer youth. Repeatedly recite the words above, all of which speak clearly and hence their ideas come through without confusion. If you pay no heed to those ideas, you will go astray in your training, and you will find you have wasted your time and be left with only sighs of regret.
十三勢行功心解 [IV] UNDERSTANDING HOW TO PRACTICE THE THIRTEEN DYNAMICS
以心行氣。務令沈着。乃能收歛入骨。以氣運身。務令順遂。乃能便利從心。精神能提得起。則無遲重之虞。所謂頂頭懸也。意氣須換得靈。乃有圓活之趣。所謂變動虛實也。發勁須沉着鬆淨。專主一方。立身須中正安舒。支撐八面。行氣如九曲珠。無往不利。（氣遍身軀之謂）運動如百鍊鋼。何堅不摧。形如搏兔之鵠。神如捕鼠之貓。靜如山岳。動若江河。蓄勁如開弓。發勁如放箭。曲中求直。蓄而後發。力由脊發。步隨身換。收卽是放。斷而復連。往復須有摺疊。進退須由轉換。極柔軟然後極堅硬。能呼吸。然後能靈活。氣以直養而無害。勁以曲蓄而有餘。心為令。氣為旗。腰為纛。先求開展。後求緊凑。乃可臻於縝密矣。 Use mind to move energy. You must get the energy to sink. It is then able to collect in the bones. Use energy to move your body. You must get the energy to be smooth. Your body can then easily obey your mind. If your spirit can be raised up, then you will be without worry of being slow or weighed down. Thus it is said [in the Thirteen Dynamics Song]: “Your whole body will be nimble and your headtop will be pulled up as if suspended”. Your mind must perform alternations nimbly, and then you will have the qualities of roundness and liveliness. Thus it is said [also in the Song]: “Pay attention to the alternation of empty and full”. When issuing power, you must sink and relax, concentrating it in one direction. Your posture must be upright and comfortable, bracing in all directions. Move energy as though through a winding-path pearl, penetrating even the smallest nook. Wield power like tempered steel, so strong there is nothing tough enough to stand up against it. The shape is like a falcon capturing a rabbit. The spirit is like a cat pouncing on a mouse. In stillness, be like a mountain, and in movement, be like a river. Store power like drawing a bow. Issue power like loosing an arrow. Within curving, seek to be straightening. Store and then issue. Power comes from your spine. Step according to your body’s adjustments. To gather is to release. Disconnect but stay connected. In the back and forth [of the arms], there must be folding. In the advance and retreat [of the feet], there must be variation. Extreme softness begets extreme hardness. Your ability to be nimble lies in your ability to breathe. By nurturing energy with integrity, it will not be corrupted. By storing power in crooked parts, it will be in abundant supply. The mind makes the command, the energy is its flag, and the waist is its banner. First strive to open up, then strive to close up, and from there you will be able to attain a refined subtlety.
又曰。先在心。後在身。腹鬆。氣歛入骨。神舒體靜。刻刻在心。切記一動無有不動。一靜無有不靜。牽動往來氣貼背。歛入脊骨。內固精神。外示安逸。邁步如貓行。運動如抽絲。全神意在精神。不在氣。在氣則滯。有氣者無力。無氣者純剛。氣若車輪。腰如車軸。 It is also said: First in the mind, then in the body. With your abdomen relaxed, energy collects in your bones. Spirit comfortable, body calm – at every moment be mindful of this. Always remember: if one part moves, every part moves, and if one part is still, every part is still. As the movement leads back and forth, energy sticks to and gathers in your spine. Inwardly bolster spirit and outwardly show ease. Step like a cat and move energy as if drawing silk. Throughout your body, your mind should be on the spirit rather than on the energy, for if you are fixated on the energy, your movement will become sluggish. Whenever your mind is on the energy, there will be no power, whereas if you ignore the energy and let it take care of itself, there will be pure strength. The energy is like a wheel and the waist is like an axle.
打手歌 [V] PLAYING HANDS SONG
掤捋擠按須認眞。上下相隨人難進。任他巨力來打我。牽動四兩撥千斤。引入落空合卽出。粘連黏隨不丢頂。 Ward-off, rollback, press, and push must be taken seriously. With coordination between above and below, the opponent will hardly find a way in. I will let him attack me with as much power as he likes, for I will tug with four ounces of force to divert his of a thousand pounds. Guiding him in to land on nothing, I then close on him and send him away. I stick, connect, adhere, and follow, neither coming away nor crashing in.
又曰。彼不動，己不動。彼微動，己先動。勁似鬆非鬆。將展未展。勁斷意不斷。 It is also said: If he takes no action, I take no action, but once he takes even the slightest action, I have already acted. The power seems relaxed but not relaxed, about to expand but not yet expanding. And then even though my power finishes, my intention still continues…
This is the time of year when it is only natural to pause and reflect on where we have been and what may be coming next. 2018 has been a busy year in the Chinese martial arts. Progress has been in made in certain areas, while suggestions of trouble have arisen in others. Lets explore all of this together as we count down the top ten news stories of the last year. As always, if you spotted a trend or article that you think should have made this list, please feel free to leave a link in the comments below!
A “Kung Fu” nun demonstrates a pole form at a Tibetan Temple in Nepal.
10. The first story on our list reflects one of my favorite themes (and research areas). Namely 2018 saw an expansion in the Chinese government’s efforts to harness its traditional martial arts as a tool of cultural and public diplomacy. Confucius Institutes around the world have a mandate to hold various sorts of cultural education events, and if you live near one in North America or Western Europe it is not that difficult to find a martial arts themed event once or twice a year. These efforts pale in comparison to the resources being invested in cultural exchange and education programs in Africa (where China has made substantial investments and is eager to maintain a positive public image) and in other regions affected by the “Belt and Road Initiative.” As I reviewed the last year’s news it seemed that we were hearing more about these sorts of efforts in South and Central Asia. This story, from back in July, nicely illustrates these trends as it discusses efforts to expand the profile of the Chinese martial arts in Nepal.
9. In a very real sense we are the product of our identities. They create us and impart a sense of purpose and meaning in our lives. Yet no identity is perfectly stable. These things are constantly shifting, slipping and being renegotiated as their relationship with society changes. As such, identity can be a source of anxiety, though people will go to remarkable lengths to suppress these feelings. Still, 2018 seems to have been a year when anxiety in the TCMA boiled to surface and entered into a number of (seemingly) unrelated discussions.
Certainly the ongoing trend of traditional “masters” being pummeled by journeyman MMA fighters on social media has helped to crystalize this. But it can be seen in other places as well. For instance, this account of a “Chinese Cultural Night” at a local University caught my attention as it argued that the traditional martial arts were a critical aspect of Asian American identity.
Yet Asian American media critics are increasingly reserving their praise for projects that distance the Asian American community from what they see as limiting activities and lazy media troupes. Indeed, on the media front 2018 will certainly be remembered as the year of “Crazy Rich Asians” rather than anything martial arts related. The value and place of these activities within the constellation of ideas, representations and practices that collectively comprise “Asian American Identity” seems to be up for explicit renegotiation.
A different, and more official, version of this debate seems to have emerged among certain Chinese policy makers. As our first story noted, the Chinese government has long sought to harness global interest in the martial arts, cooking and other traditional practices as a “soft power” resource in international politics. Yet another group of officials is becoming concerned that these self-Orientalizing strategies will backfire in the long run. They worry that China is not doing enough to showcase itself as a rich, technologically advanced and urban society. Individuals who travel to China may be disappointed when they discover a wonderland of modern materialism rather the romantic haven of “traditional” culture that they imagined. In any case, who is to say that this more realistic image of Chinese culture would not appeal to an ever greater segment of the world’s population (specifically, the sorts of people who enjoy scenes of rapid economic development, followed by the rise of soaring glass and steel skylines). Is it a problem that the identity which China seeks to cultivate on the world stage does not reflect the values and aspirations of many of its citizens? It will be interesting to see where this debate goes in 2019.
Xu Xiaodong Strikes again!
8. Xu Xiadong topped the 2017 news list, and he succeeded in making waves in 2018 as well. I had a particular fondness for this article which appeared Bloody Elbow back in April. It struck me as interesting on two counts. Its title, “MMA fighters batter Wing Chun Masters in China”, was a masterpiece of aspirational misstatement. A more accurate title would have read: “MMA (journeyman trainer) batters (unknown) Wing Chun (practitioner) in Japan.” Yeah, that is better.
Beyond that, this story, and others like it, capture so much of the anxiety that surrounds the Chinese martial arts. Xu has gotten in trouble with the government as they view his antics as devaluing China’s traditional culture and “humiliating the nation” (no matter how much he protests to the contrary). And the press coverage of Xu’s activities really frames an entire group of other stories chronicling the rise of MMA, Muay Thai and BBJ in China as activities to be taken up by regular citizens rather than just professional fighters (which is where Sanda and Olympic Judo had largely remained). My favorite of those pieces was the New York Times article titled “The First Rule of Chinese Fight Club: No Karaoke.” It provides a nice profile of a local “fight club,” inspired both by the founder’s love of the movie, and the growing popularity of Western combat sports in China. It discusses the legal and administrative hurdles that such a business faces, and in so doing gives a nice glimpse into the social anxieties that still surround the martial arts. Here is a quote to whet your appetite:
“…boxing, mixed martial arts and other high-energy fighting forms have been enjoying a minor boom in China in recent years. Gyms and audiences have multiplied across the country. Precise numbers are hard to come by, but one fan group estimates that the number of clubs had reached 8,300 in 2016, up from 2,700 in 2008.
Even so, commercial fight venues that draw a broader audience are rare. And Chengdu, with its zestful night life and hipster scene, seemed as good a place as any to try opening one. Yet even here the club has struggled to balance between being cool enough to draw customers and respectable enough to keep the inspectors at bay.
In a former venue, the fight club had to fend off complaints from the police, who deemed the weekly bouts undesirable, if not illegal. The authorities cut off their power and water late last year, Mr. Shi and Mr. Wang said. Tensions had also grown when a national controversy erupted last April after Xu Xiaodong, a mixed martial arts fighter, challenged masters of China’s gentler traditional martial arts to fight and flattened one of them in about 10 seconds.
Mr. Xu may have won that fight hands down, but the episode brought bad publicity for new martial arts in China.”
7. The government’s involvement with Xu’s various challenge fights should inspire students of martial arts studies to critically reflect on the various intersections of politics and Kung Fu. Indeed, the second half of 2018 saw a number of stories in which the Chinese government explicitly demanded a greater degree of loyalty from the nation’s institutions of traditional cultural.
The Shaolin Temple, in its double capacity as both a religious institution and center for martial arts training, found itself at the center of this controversy. Seeking to get ahead of new government policy directives designed to limit the independence of Chinese religious movements from the state and Communist Party, the temple’s leadership decided to take a much more visible and proactive role in promoting “patriotism” (rather than simply Buddhism) in the monks’ public performance. This is actually a somewhat nuanced topic as Chinese Buddhist monasteries have never been truly independent of the state and Shaolin, in particular, already carries a patriotic reputation. Still, the move has inspired some controversy and much discussion. A good overview of all this can be found in the South China Morning Post article titled: “Red flag for Buddhists? Shaolin Temple ‘takes the lead’ in Chinese patriotism push.” Here is a sample of the sort of pushback that has been encountered:
Tsui Chung-hui, of the University of Hong Kong’s Centre of Buddhist Studies, said Buddhist scripture already required its followers to respect the state.
“The government does not need to take pains to promote [this] and monasteries also do not need to pander to politics,” Tsui said on Tuesday. “They should let monks dedicate themselves to Buddhism and not waste their time performing various political propaganda activities.”
China has recently come under the spotlight for its efforts to clamp down on minority religions including Islam and Christianity, which it associates with foreign influence or ethnic separatism. Mosques and churches flying the national flag have become an increasingly common sight in China amid the crackdown.
6. When thinking about the Chinese martial arts and politics it would be a mistake to focus solely on the question of national identities. These systems are also invoked as part of efforts to define and shore up a wide variety of local and regional structures. This is something that we can see throughout the realm of the traditional Asian martial arts. Still, when reviewing media coverage of these events I noted that “Southern” arts (and cities showed up) with a fair degree of frequency. These articles are so interesting to me that its hard to pick just one. Over the course of the last year we saw lots of good news coverage of Wing Chun in Hong Kong, exhibitions on the Hakka arts, and a really nice piece on the rebirth of Foshan’s Choy Li Fut in the 1990s. But if forced to choose I might suggest taking a look at this piece on White Crane in Taipei. I liked the way that it explicitly engaged with the discourse linking local martial arts practice with regional prestige/identity. Note the following quote:
Every Asian nation and culture around Taiwan has laid claim to a signature martial art, such as taichi, wing chun, karate, taekwondo, Muay Thai and escrima, [Lin] said.
“It is a shame that Taiwan does not have a representative martial art,” he said. “I want to leave behind something for the nation. I have vowed that I will travel to make the feeding crane style thrive all over the world,” he said.
From the moment she entered that inn and took a table in the middle of the room with steely confidence amid dozens of leering men — then dispatched them in an epic fight with a fury unseen in cinema up to that point, 19-year-old Cheng Pei-Pei was a star.
The year was 1966, and “Come Drink With Me,” directed by the great King Hu, was the first major martial arts movie to have a woman as the central action star, paving the way for Michelle Yeoh, Zhang Ziyi and many others. And this was 13 years before Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley character in “Alien” broke ground in Hollywood as an action heroine.
English language tabloids continue to discuss the newly “rediscovered” tradition of “kung fu bull fighting.” This is basically the latest attempt to parlay martial arts exhibitions into a local tourist attraction.
3. It seems that every year has that one story that just won’t die. Somewhat improbably, 2018’s champion would have to be “Kung Fu Bull Fighting.” If you have never heard of this “ancient” practice before, don’t worry, you are not alone. Bull wrestling was first registered as an ethnic martial art (attributed to the Hui people) in 2008. More recently practiconers in Zhejiang have taken to the practice in an attempt to create a local tourist attraction, capturing a slice of China’s lucrative domestic tourism market. And its hard to blame them. The massive success of places like Chen Village and the Shaolin Temple ensures that local officials throughout China are always on the lookout for raw material that can be turned into the next martial arts pilgrimage destination.
Still, the practice of Kung Fu bullfighting (which first hit the English language press in September of this year) feels different. While many Chinese language books on the martial arts begin with a boilerplate paragraph explaining that these fighting systems were invented in the ancient past to defend the people from “wild animals,” I don’t think I have ever seen a modern “martial art” system that claimed to take animals as their primary opponent. While it would be easy to look at this story in terms of (transparently) “invented traditions” and the demands of local tourism markets, I suspect that there is more going on here. The constant comparisons to Spanish bull fighting in these articles suggests an exercise in both gender and national identity construction. On the other hand, given all of the news about the Chinese martial arts (movies, sporting events, kung fu diplomacy, etc…) that is produced every month, one has to wonder why this story has captured the English language press to the degree that it has? Clearly there is a healthy dose of Orientalism going on here. But what specifically do readers imagine that they are learning about Chinese culture as they immerse themselves within the world of “ancient” Chinese bullfighting? What does this suggest about the ways that China continues to be imagined in the West? The strange endurance of this story reminds us that even the least serious practice can inspire important questions.
2. There is no better known figure within the Chinese martial arts than Bruce Lee. Indeed, he is probably the most well-known martial arts figure of all time. Still, even by Lee’s elevated standard, 2018 was a good year. Anniversaries aside, much of that credit must go to the well known author Matthew Polly who finally released his long anticipated (and extensively researched) biography. I don’t think its an exaggeration to say that this Polly’s effort is destined to be remembered as the definitive Bruce Lee biography.
Just as interesting as the book itself was the media’s response to it. While the tabloids tended to dwell on Polly’s more lurid revelations, the book was reviewed, discussed and meditated upon in a surprisingly wide variety of print and televised outlets. Pretty much every major newspaper and magazine weighed in on Polly’s book, some more than once. Discussions of this work dominated the Chinese martial arts headlines for months, testifying to Lee’s enduring charisma. Lee even got his own academic conference earlier this year (at which Polly made an appearance)! All in all, 2018 was a good year for the Bruce Lee legacy, and it suggests that his image continues to shape the way that the public perceives the Chinese martial arts.
1. This brings us to the top news story of 2018, the passing of Louis Cha, also known to his fans as Jin Yong. Indeed, coverage of his achievements began relatively early in the year with the announcement of new graphic novels based on his work, and the release of an important English language translation of Legend of Condor Heroes. While Cha is the best selling modern Chinese author, few of his works had found English language publishers. As such, this new translation was treated as a major publishing event which generated a large number of reviews, discussions and think pieces.
That press coverage proved to be only a primer of what was to come following the author’s death (at the age of 94) at the end of October. It seemed that every major paper and news outlet on both sides of the Pacific was eager to remember and reevaluate the fruits of a remarkable life. There was much to be said regarding Cha’s contributions as a newspaper editor and leading (and at times controversial) political figure during Hong Kong’s transition to Chinese rule.
Yet it would be impossible to overstate the importance of Cha’s Wuxia novels in the rejuvenation of Hong Kong’s post-war martial arts culture. His stories provided practices that were often publicly scorned with a degree of gravitas. They granted cathartic relief to a generation of exiled readers struggling with the sudden realization that after 1949 they would not be returning to their homes in other parts of China. Later they helped younger readers to position their own martial practice and social struggles in terms of larger cultural and historic narratives.
While Cha was never known as a martial artist, his writings helped to popularize and give social meaning to these practices. Indeed, for cultural historians of the Southern Chinese martial arts it is often necessary think in terms of the “pre” and “post” Jin Yong eras. While Cha’s passing is a tragedy, the remembrances of the last few months have highlighted his enduring contributions to the public appreciation of the Chinese martial arts.
This is the time of year when it is only natural to pause and reflect on where we have been and what may be coming next. 2018 has been a busy year in the Chinese martial arts. Progress has been in made in certain areas, while suggestions of trouble have arisen in others. Lets explore all of this together as we count down the top ten news stories of the last year. As always, if you spotted a trend or article that you think should have made this list, please feel free to leave a link in the comments below!
A “Kung Fu” nun demonstrates a pole form at a Tibetan Temple in Nepal.
10. The first story on our list reflects one of my favorite themes (and research areas). Namely 2018 saw an expansion in the Chinese government’s efforts to harness its traditional martial arts as a tool of cultural and public diplomacy. Confucius Institutes around the world have a mandate to hold various sorts of cultural education events, and if you live near one in North America or Western Europe it is not that difficult to find a martial arts themed event once or twice a year. These efforts pale in comparison to the resources being invested in cultural exchange and education programs in Africa (where China has made substantial investments and is eager to maintain a positive public image) and in other regions affected by the “Belt and Road Initiative.” As I reviewed the last year’s news it seemed that we were hearing more about these sorts of efforts in South and Central Asia. This story, from back in July, nicely illustrates these trends as it discusses efforts to expand the profile of the Chinese martial arts in Nepal.
9. In a very real sense we are the product of our identities. They create us and impart a sense of purpose and meaning in our lives. Yet no identity is perfectly stable. These things are constantly shifting, slipping and being renegotiated as their relationship with society changes. As such, identity can be a source of anxiety, though people will go to remarkable lengths to suppress these feelings. Still, 2018 seems to have been a year when anxiety in the TCMA boiled to surface and entered into a number of (seemingly) unrelated discussions.
Certainly the ongoing trend of traditional “masters” being pummeled by journeyman MMA fighters on social media has helped to crystalize this. But it can be seen in other places as well. For instance, this account of a “Chinese Cultural Night” at a local University caught my attention as it argued that the traditional martial arts were a critical aspect of Asian American identity.
Yet Asian American media critics are increasingly reserving their praise for projects that distance the Asian American community from what they see as limiting activities and lazy media troupes. Indeed, on the media front 2018 will certainly be remembered as the year of “Crazy Rich Asians” rather than anything martial arts related. The value and place of these activities within the constellation of ideas, representations and practices that collectively comprise “Asian American Identity” seems to be up for explicit renegotiation.
A different, and more official, version of this debate seems to have emerged among certain Chinese policy makers. As our first story noted, the Chinese government has long sought to harness global interest in the martial arts, cooking and other traditional practices as a “soft power” resource in international politics. Yet another group of officials is becoming concerned that these self-Orientalizing strategies will backfire in the long run. They worry that China is not doing enough to showcase itself as a rich, technologically advanced and urban society. Individuals who travel to China may be disappointed when they discover a wonderland of modern materialism rather the romantic haven of “traditional” culture that they imagined. In any case, who is to say that this more realistic image of Chinese culture would not appeal to an ever greater segment of the world’s population (specifically, the sorts of people who enjoy scenes of rapid economic development, followed by the rise of soaring glass and steel skylines). Is it a problem that the identity which China seeks to cultivate on the world stage does not reflect the values and aspirations of many of its citizens? It will be interesting to see where this debate goes in 2019.
Xu Xiaodong Strikes again!
8. Xu Xiadong topped the 2017 news list, and he succeeded in making waves in 2018 as well. I had a particular fondness for this article which appeared Bloody Elbow back in April. It struck me as interesting on two counts. Its title, “MMA fighters batter Wing Chun Masters in China”, was a masterpiece of aspirational misstatement. A more accurate title would have read: “MMA (journeyman trainer) batters (unknown) Wing Chun (practitioner) in Japan.” Yeah, that is better.
Beyond that, this story, and others like it, capture so much of the anxiety that surrounds the Chinese martial arts. Xu has gotten in trouble with the government as they view his antics as devaluing China’s traditional culture and “humiliating the nation” (no matter how much he protests to the contrary). And the press coverage of Xu’s activities really frames an entire group of other stories chronicling the rise of MMA, Muay Thai and BBJ in China as activities to be taken up by regular citizens rather than just professional fighters (which is where Sanda and Olympic Judo had largely remained). My favorite of those pieces was the New York Times article titled “The First Rule of Chinese Fight Club: No Karaoke.” It provides a nice profile of a local “fight club,” inspired both by the founder’s love of the movie, and the growing popularity of Western combat sports in China. It discusses the legal and administrative hurdles that such a business faces, and in so doing gives a nice glimpse into the social anxieties that still surround the martial arts. Here is a quote to whet your appetite:
“…boxing, mixed martial arts and other high-energy fighting forms have been enjoying a minor boom in China in recent years. Gyms and audiences have multiplied across the country. Precise numbers are hard to come by, but one fan group estimates that the number of clubs had reached 8,300 in 2016, up from 2,700 in 2008.
Even so, commercial fight venues that draw a broader audience are rare. And Chengdu, with its zestful night life and hipster scene, seemed as good a place as any to try opening one. Yet even here the club has struggled to balance between being cool enough to draw customers and respectable enough to keep the inspectors at bay.
In a former venue, the fight club had to fend off complaints from the police, who deemed the weekly bouts undesirable, if not illegal. The authorities cut off their power and water late last year, Mr. Shi and Mr. Wang said. Tensions had also grown when a national controversy erupted last April after Xu Xiaodong, a mixed martial arts fighter, challenged masters of China’s gentler traditional martial arts to fight and flattened one of them in about 10 seconds.
Mr. Xu may have won that fight hands down, but the episode brought bad publicity for new martial arts in China.”
7. The government’s involvement with Xu’s various challenge fights should inspire students of martial arts studies to critically reflect on the various intersections of politics and Kung Fu. Indeed, the second half of 2018 saw a number of stories in which the Chinese government explicitly demanded a greater degree of loyalty from the nation’s institutions of traditional cultural.
The Shaolin Temple, in its double capacity as both a religious institution and center for martial arts training, found itself at the center of this controversy. Seeking to get ahead of new government policy directives designed to limit the independence of Chinese religious movements from the state and Communist Party, the temple’s leadership decided to take a much more visible and proactive role in promoting “patriotism” (rather than simply Buddhism) in the monks’ public performance. This is actually a somewhat nuanced topic as Chinese Buddhist monasteries have never been truly independent of the state and Shaolin, in particular, already carries a patriotic reputation. Still, the move has inspired some controversy and much discussion. A good overview of all this can be found in the South China Morning Post article titled: “Red flag for Buddhists? Shaolin Temple ‘takes the lead’ in Chinese patriotism push.” Here is a sample of the sort of pushback that has been encountered:
Tsui Chung-hui, of the University of Hong Kong’s Centre of Buddhist Studies, said Buddhist scripture already required its followers to respect the state.
“The government does not need to take pains to promote [this] and monasteries also do not need to pander to politics,” Tsui said on Tuesday. “They should let monks dedicate themselves to Buddhism and not waste their time performing various political propaganda activities.”
China has recently come under the spotlight for its efforts to clamp down on minority religions including Islam and Christianity, which it associates with foreign influence or ethnic separatism. Mosques and churches flying the national flag have become an increasingly common sight in China amid the crackdown.
6. When thinking about the Chinese martial arts and politics it would be a mistake to focus solely on the question of national identities. These systems are also invoked as part of efforts to define and shore up a wide variety of local and regional structures. This is something that we can see throughout the realm of the traditional Asian martial arts. Still, when reviewing media coverage of these events I noted that “Southern” arts (and cities showed up) with a fair degree of frequency. These articles are so interesting to me that its hard to pick just one. Over the course of the last year we saw lots of good news coverage of Wing Chun in Hong Kong, exhibitions on the Hakka arts, and a really nice piece on the rebirth of Foshan’s Choy Li Fut in the 1990s. But if forced to choose I might suggest taking a look at this piece on White Crane in Taipei. I liked the way that it explicitly engaged with the discourse linking local martial arts practice with regional prestige/identity. Note the following quote:
Every Asian nation and culture around Taiwan has laid claim to a signature martial art, such as taichi, wing chun, karate, taekwondo, Muay Thai and escrima, [Lin] said.
“It is a shame that Taiwan does not have a representative martial art,” he said. “I want to leave behind something for the nation. I have vowed that I will travel to make the feeding crane style thrive all over the world,” he said.
From the moment she entered that inn and took a table in the middle of the room with steely confidence amid dozens of leering men — then dispatched them in an epic fight with a fury unseen in cinema up to that point, 19-year-old Cheng Pei-Pei was a star.
The year was 1966, and “Come Drink With Me,” directed by the great King Hu, was the first major martial arts movie to have a woman as the central action star, paving the way for Michelle Yeoh, Zhang Ziyi and many others. And this was 13 years before Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley character in “Alien” broke ground in Hollywood as an action heroine.
English language tabloids continue to discuss the newly “rediscovered” tradition of “kung fu bull fighting.” This is basically the latest attempt to parlay martial arts exhibitions into a local tourist attraction.
3. It seems that every year has that one story that just won’t die. Somewhat improbably, 2018’s champion would have to be “Kung Fu Bull Fighting.” If you have never heard of this “ancient” practice before, don’t worry, you are not alone. Bull wrestling was first registered as an ethnic martial art (attributed to the Hui people) in 2008. More recently practiconers in Zhejiang have taken to the practice in an attempt to create a local tourist attraction, capturing a slice of China’s lucrative domestic tourism market. And its hard to blame them. The massive success of places like Chen Village and the Shaolin Temple ensures that local officials throughout China are always on the lookout for raw material that can be turned into the next martial arts pilgrimage destination.
Still, the practice of Kung Fu bullfighting (which first hit the English language press in September of this year) feels different. While many Chinese language books on the martial arts begin with a boilerplate paragraph explaining that these fighting systems were invented in the ancient past to defend the people from “wild animals,” I don’t think I have ever seen a modern “martial art” system that claimed to take animals as their primary opponent. While it would be easy to look at this story in terms of (transparently) “invented traditions” and the demands of local tourism markets, I suspect that there is more going on here. The constant comparisons to Spanish bull fighting in these articles suggests an exercise in both gender and national identity construction. On the other hand, given all of the news about the Chinese martial arts (movies, sporting events, kung fu diplomacy, etc…) that is produced every month, one has to wonder why this story has captured the English language press to the degree that it has? Clearly there is a healthy dose of Orientalism going on here. But what specifically do readers imagine that they are learning about Chinese culture as they immerse themselves within the world of “ancient” Chinese bullfighting? What does this suggest about the ways that China continues to be imagined in the West? The strange endurance of this story reminds us that even the least serious practice can inspire important questions.
2. There is no better known figure within the Chinese martial arts than Bruce Lee. Indeed, he is probably the most well-known martial arts figure of all time. Still, even by Lee’s elevated standard, 2018 was a good year. Anniversaries aside, much of that credit must go to the well known author Matthew Polly who finally released his long anticipated (and extensively researched) biography. I don’t think its an exaggeration to say that this Polly’s effort is destined to be remembered as the definitive Bruce Lee biography.
Just as interesting as the book itself was the media’s response to it. While the tabloids tended to dwell on Polly’s more lurid revelations, the book was reviewed, discussed and meditated upon in a surprisingly wide variety of print and televised outlets. Pretty much every major newspaper and magazine weighed in on Polly’s book, some more than once. Discussions of this work dominated the Chinese martial arts headlines for months, testifying to Lee’s enduring charisma. Lee even got his own academic conference earlier this year (at which Polly made an appearance)! All in all, 2018 was a good year for the Bruce Lee legacy, and it suggests that his image continues to shape the way that the public perceives the Chinese martial arts.
1. This brings us to the top news story of 2018, the passing of Louis Cha, also known to his fans as Jin Yong. Indeed, coverage of his achievements began relatively early in the year with the announcement of new graphic novels based on his work, and the release of an important English language translation of Legend of Condor Heroes. While Cha is the best selling modern Chinese author, few of his works had found English language publishers. As such, this new translation was treated as a major publishing event which generated a large number of reviews, discussions and think pieces.
That press coverage proved to be only a primer of what was to come following the author’s death (at the age of 94) at the end of October. It seemed that every major paper and news outlet on both sides of the Pacific was eager to remember and reevaluate the fruits of a remarkable life. There was much to be said regarding Cha’s contributions as a newspaper editor and leading (and at times controversial) political figure during Hong Kong’s transition to Chinese rule.
Yet it would be impossible to overstate the importance of Cha’s Wuxia novels in the rejuvenation of Hong Kong’s post-war martial arts culture. His stories provided practices that were often publicly scorned with a degree of gravitas. They granted cathartic relief to a generation of exiled readers struggling with the sudden realization that after 1949 they would not be returning to their homes in other parts of China. Later they helped younger readers to position their own martial practice and social struggles in terms of larger cultural and historic narratives.
While Cha was never known as a martial artist, his writings helped to popularize and give social meaning to these practices. Indeed, for cultural historians of the Southern Chinese martial arts it is often necessary think in terms of the “pre” and “post” Jin Yong eras. While Cha’s passing is a tragedy, the remembrances of the last few months have highlighted his enduring contributions to the public appreciation of the Chinese martial arts.
When not collecting images of the traditional Chinese martial arts, I occasionally hunt for vintage Christmas cards.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of Kung Fu Tea’s readers! Thanks so much for your support and feedback over the last seven years. I think that Santa left me one or two martial arts related items under the tree. Hopefully he did the same for you.
We will be returning to our normal posting schedule after the first week of January, but I might have one or two short articles to go up before then, so check back often. If, however, you find yourself looking for some long-reads over the holidays, consider checking out one of these classic posts:
燕青單刀 YAN QING’S SINGLE SABER 順德黃漢勛編述 by Huang Hanxun [Wong Honfan] of Shunde 山東蓬萊羅光玉老師授 as taught by Luo Guangyu of Penglai, Shandong 攝影者：譚以禮 postures photographed by Tan Yili 校對者：黃子英 text proofread by Huang Ziying [published 33rd year of the cycle, 6th month, 1st day (Jul 8, 1956)]
[translation by Paul Brennan, Dec, 2018]
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㷼青單刀 Yan Qing’s Single Saber 黃漢勋自署 – calligraphy by Huang Hanxun
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燕青单刀形勢圖 Map for the postures in the set:
图例：凢由東至西。或由西返東之直線形。皆以同一線為凖。其分線繪图者。不外為利便絵圖耳。 The postures will travel from east to west, then come back from west to east [and then once more from east to west and west to east], both ways in a straight line. These lines are drawn simply for convenience.
S 南 E 東 + 西 W 北 N
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試刀小言 A FEW WORDS ON EXAMINING THE SABER
古俠士與武林先哲嘗以得寶刀寶劍為榮，其得寶也必先看之，試之，以攷其實，精武前輩，盍煒昌先生嘗贈余以試劍圖乙幀，盧君致力武道四十年其神彩至為活現，余以此刀祗得五十五圖，因補撕此圖以凑合篇幅耳，若云以先哲前賢自視，能勿愧煞乎！抑亦能毋有東施效顰之嫌歟。 Ancient warriors and wise men within the martial arts community considered it an honor to receive a “precious saber” or a “precious sword”. But to test whether it was really a precious blade, they first had to examine it [by drawing it from its scabbard, as in the photo]. Jingwu elder Lu Weichang once gave me a photo of himself examining a sword. He devoted himself to martial ways for forty years and his passion for it was visible. Although this saber set in this book contains only fifty-five postures, it may seem that the addition of this one photo makes the book too long. If it makes you think that I consider myself to be on a par with previous masters like Lu, shame on you. Do not imagine for an instant that I am trying to make some pathetic attempt to imitate that great man.
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自序 AUTHOR’S PREFACE
單刀一械為步戰中慣用武器之一，其法乃脫胎於大刀而大盛於宋明及亡淸，宋末水滸傳中之浪子燕靑即以單刀法見稱於世矣，其後王五亦以單刀著譽武林，「人或以大刀王五稱之。」余則以為王所用刀畧大而已，並非為大砍刀之大刀也，燕靑單刀僅傳五十五刀法，中有重式者，除外則半耳！單刀有十法，即劈，軋，抅，掛，削，拍，挑，撩，搜，撈，也。漢雖曾一個時期致力於此，祗惜二十年來，就食四方是以致技術生疏退板，且以個人精神魄力去應需求不同之習技者，是難得專心致意於某一技之機會，茲僅拾遺法於萬一用以列諸於冊，雖未能揚前人之美妙，但尤勝乎昧昧於心而藏諸黃土之為計也，但願人人以發揚國粹自任，使具有民族性之技術千古不替，是所厚幸焉。黃漢勛於丙申端午東方國術部 The single saber is a weapon that has been commonly used by infantry. Its techniques emerge from the large saber art and it flourished through the dynasties of Song, Ming, and right up until the end of the Qing. In the late Song Dynasty novel The Water Margin, the character of “The Wanderer” Yan Qing was well-known for his single saber skills. Later on [late 19th century], Wang Wu [Wang Zhengyi] also become famous in martial arts circles for his use of the single saber, and was sometimes known as “Large Saber Wang Wu”. I use a slightly larger saber than Wang did, and so it is not the “large cleaving saber” type of large saber. Yan Qing’s Single Saber is a set that contains only fifty-five postures, and half of them are repeats. The single saber art has ten techniques: chopping, rolling, hooking, hanging, slicing, patting, carrying, raising, searching, and scooping. Although I at one time devoted myself to this set, that was twenty years ago, and I have since had my attention pulled in so many directions that my saber skill has rusted. Because the task I have dedicated myself to requires the training of many different abilities, it is difficult to get the chance to focus all of my attention on a single skill. This set that I have picked to be in this series of books is just one tiny sample from all that I have inherited. Although I cannot do justice to the brilliance of previous generations, I at least seek to overcome ignorance and reveal what might otherwise become buried away. I only wish for everyone to take it upon themselves to carry on our national culture and keep our nation’s arts from ever being replaced. This is my sincere hope. - written by Huang Hanxun at the Far East Martial Arts Headquarters, 33rd year of the cycle, Dragon Boat Festival [which takes place on the 5th day of the 5th lunar month, hence June 13, 1956]
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第一式 出步中平式 Posture 1: IN READINESS TO STEP OUT, STANDING STABLY
說明： Explanation: 假定此刀擇定東方作起點者應背南，面北，右東，左西而立，注視西方，左手捧刀，刀沿臂緊貼，刀以不逾頭而與耳齊為合度右手掌貼身，垂下，如「定式圖」 Stand in the eastern part of the practice space to begin this set, with the south behind you, the north in front of you, the east to your right, the west to your left. Your gaze is to the west. Your left hand is holding the saber, the [back of the] saber touching along [the top of] the arm. The saber should not extend past your head and should instead be at ear level. Your right palm is hanging down near your body [thigh]. See photo 1:
功用： Application: 刀勢尚未展開，故無功用可言。 In this posture, you have not yet reached out with the saber, and thus there is no application to speak of.
第二式 抱刀上步式 Posture 2: HOLDING THE SABER, STEP FORWARD
說明： Explanation: 沿上式，先出右脚，右掌與刀向前直出，目向前視，如「過後式」甲， Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot goes out as your right palm and the saber go straight out forward. Your gaze is forward. See photo 2a:
再進左脚以成左跨虎步，右掌化作刁手與刀齊往後收，逾後逾佳，目注西而視，如『定式圖』 Then your left foot advances to make a left sitting-tiger stance as your right hand becomes a hooking hand and withdraws behind you in unison with the saber. The farther they reach back, the better. Your gaze is toward the west. See photo 2b:
功用： Application: 刀尚未交於右手，故仍為開式之勢，尚無實用可言。 As the saber has not yet been switched to your right hand, this is still an opening posture, and thus there is still not really any application to speak of.
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先拉起左脚，復進前右脚，以成立正之勢，右手復化為掌與刀同時向西方舉出，如「過渡式甲圖」 Continuing from the previous posture, first your left foot lifts, then your right foot advances to stand next to it, making a posture of standing at attention, as your right hand changes back to a palm and goes out to the west together with the saber. See photo 3a:
再退右脚拉左脚以成向正西方之跨虎步，右掌自左腋下出而向上，刀往後斜拖，如『定式圖』。 Then your right foot retreats and your left foot pulls back to make a sitting-tiger stance facing toward the west as your right palm goes out upward from below your left armpit, the saber pulling back until it is diagonal behind you. See photo 3b:
功用： Application: 此式雖然於刀尚無致用之處，但相傳江湖上之鑣囊乃懸於腋下者，因此右手返至腋內者即取鑣之意，復向上揚者，亦即投擲之暗示也，今之用鑣者少，因是而祗是象徵而已。 In this posture, the saber still has no practical function, but according to tradition, wandering entertainers had a dart pocketed below the armpit, thus the right hand goes toward the armpit with a sense of taking out the dart and then raises upward to represent throwing this hidden weapon. Those who use such darts are very rare nowadays, and thus this is simply a symbolic gesture.
第四式 竄跳出身式 Posture 4: LEAPING UP AND SENDING OUT YOUR BODY
說明： Explanation: 循上式，刀不動，右掌化拳自腰部與左脚向西前方齊出如「過渡式甲圖「。 Continuing from the previous posture, the saber does not change its position as your right palm becomes a fist and punches out from your waist, your left foot kicking out at the same time, both going out toward the west in unison. See photo 4a:
再跳起以右掌拍落右膝部，刀畧向前伸，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then hop up, using your right palm to slap down against your right knee area, the saber slightly reaching forward. See photo 4b:
落右脚以成扑腿之勢，右掌變拳收腰，刀則轉至胸前，如「過渡丙式圖」。 Your right leg comes down [and your left leg extends forward] to make a reaching-leg stance as your right palm becomes a fist and withdraws to your waist, the saber arcing until in front of your chest. See photo 4c:
再起過左腰後，右拳自腰部衝出，如『定式圖』。 Then rise up, the saber passing the left side of your waist and going behind you as your right fist thrusts out from your waist. See photo 4d:
功用： Application: 此蹤跳出身者是與敵求接近之意也，我先以拳腿攻之，再用扑腿法剷之，彼欲跳起卸避，我則轉馬用捶直統之也。 This technique of leaping up and sending my body out is for dissuading an opponent who wants to approach me. I first use a technique of fist and foot attacking simultaneously, then use a reaching-leg stance to shovel underneath him. He will thus want to jump away to evade me, so I switch my stance and send a thrust punch straight at him.
第五式 扑腿推刀式 Posture 5: REACHING-LEG STANCE, PUSHING THE SABER
說明： Explanation: 循上式，左右脚不變原來位置，祗再由左登山步往後轉為扑腿耳！刀自後繞過面前，右拳變掌隨刀而轉如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your feet stay in their location and you simply shift back to the rear, going from a left mountain-climbing stance to a reaching-leg stance [the photo showing more of a right mountain-climbing], the saber going from behind you, passing in front of you, [and arcing to the right,] your right fist becoming a palm and arcing along with the saber. See photo 5a:
再由左手將刀交於右手，復轉馬為左登山步，右刀平推與左上掌齊出，如『定式圖』。 Then your left hand sends the saber into your right hand and you switch back to a left mountain-climbing stance as your right hand pushes out the saber, the blade horizontal, your left hand going out at the same time. See photo 5b:
功用： Application: 我已將刀交於右手，即是凖備作戰之暗示也，彼即自我頂上殺來一棍或一槍，我乃用左掌朝上迎之，右刀向其中部推出，使彼不及收械迎禦也。 Once I have switched the saber into my right hand, this means I am ready for combat. An opponent uses a staff or spear to smash onto my headtop, so I send my left palm upward to block it while my right hand sends my saber pushing outward to his middle area, leaving him unable to withdraw his weapon in time to defend against it.
第六式 拉刀收步式 Posture 6: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP
說明： Explanation: 循上式，原步不變，左掌向前，右刀自前經過面前拉向背部，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 6a:
再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀，刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上，左掌化刁手往後抅去，如『定式圖』。 Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 6b:
功用： Application: 彼擬用長械迫我，我先用左手刁去來械，復以右刀自上而下，以資掩護，亦可作劈擊來械之用也。 An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.
第七式 竄跳囘身式 Posture 7: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先將右脚開往東方如登山步，刀與左刁手畧掠開，目注視西後方，如「過渡式圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 7a:
再原式不變疾跳過西後方，如『定式圖』。 Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 7b and 7c:
功用： Application: 不論已否扣得來械，我皆向後撤退，以便靜觀其變，俟機出擊是也。 Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.
第八式 拉刀藏刀式 Posture 8: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION
說明： Explanation: 循上式，刀與手不變，先進左脚，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 8a:
再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚，左刁手仍抅後，刀則沿右膝部殺落，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 8b:
左手與步不變，刀循前下方繞過背部，右手直舉，如「過渡式丙圖」。 With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 8c:
乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳，以成左跨虎之勢，刀則轉過左肩斜向前落，落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如『定式圖』。 Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 8d:
功用： Application: 此式合卸步，提腿，蹤跳，攔刀，撇刀，拉刀等為一式，若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。 This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.
第九式 出步劈刀式 Posture 9: STEP OUT, CHOPPING
說明： Explanation: 循上式，出右脚以成右登山步，刀自後向前劈去，再轉歸左方，左手則貼腕助之，如『定式圖』。 Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot goes out to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops out forward from the rear and follows through by arcing across to the left, your left hand touching your [right] wrist to assist. See photo 9:
功用： Application: 彼械直刺我中門，我即用橫刀殺消之。 The opponent’s weapon stabs to my middle area, so I send my saber across to smash it away.
第十式 跟步軋刀式 Posture 10: FOLLOWING STEP, ROLLING THE SABER
說明： Explanation: 循上式，左右脚不變，祗向一標，以成騎馬式，刀與掌同時向前後一分，如『定式圖』。 Continuing from the previous posture, your feet maintain their position and you simply dart forward to make a horse-riding stance, the saber and palm spreading apart forward and back. See photo 10:
功用： Application: 彼械為我刀殺去，或為彼漏去，我皆復跟步進馬順刀劈之，斯為刀法之正着，抑亦與上式有連貫之作用也。 The opponent’s weapon has been smashed aside by my saber, or he has retreated, so I follow him by advancing into a horse-riding stance with my saber chopping out. This is a direct saber action and follows on from the previous posture to form a continuous technique.
第十一式 抱頭攔刀式 Posture 11: WRAPPING AROUND THE HEAD, SLASHING
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先提左後脚，刀自前轉後斜掛左肩之上，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first lift your left foot as the saber arcs to the rear to hang diagonally over your left shoulder. See photo 11a:
再以站地之脚，循左方移動，轉後反以後刀作前，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then pivot to the left on your standing foot to bring the saber from the rear to the front. See photo 11b:
再落右脚以成左登山式，刀由背後繞過再橫轉於前，如『定式圖』。 Then your right [left] foot comes down to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber passes behind your back and arcs across in front of you. See photo 11c:
功用： Application: 彼繞過我背後實施襲擊，我即以刀掩護隨之而轉動，經一迎後再用橫刀法砍殺之。 The opponent slips around behind me to make a surprise attack, so I use my saber to shield myself as I pivot around to face him and then slash across at him.
第十二式 拉刀收步式 Posture 12: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP
說明： Explanation: 循上式，原步不變，左掌向前，右刀自前經過面前拉向背部，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 12a:
再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀，刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上，左掌化刁手往後抅去，如『定式圖』。 Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 12b:
功用： Application: 彼擬用長械迫我，我先用左手刁去來械，復以右刀自上而下，以資掩護，亦可作劈擊來械之用也。 An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.
第十三式 竄跳囘身式 Posture 13: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先將右脚開往東方如登山步，刀與左刁手畧掠開，目注視西後方，如「過渡式圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 13a:
再原式不變疾跳過西後方，如『定式圖』。 Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 13b and 13c:
功用： Application: 不論已否扣得來械，我皆向後撤退，以便靜觀其變，俟機出擊是也。 Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.
第十四式 拉刀藏刀式 Posture 14: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION
說明： Explanation: 循上式，刀與手不變，先進左脚，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 14a:
再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚，左刁手仍抅後，刀則沿右膝部殺落，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 14b:
左手與步不變，刀循前下方繞過背部，右手直舉，如「過渡式丙圖」。 With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 14c:
乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳，以成左跨虎之勢，刀則轉過左肩斜向前落，落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如『定式圖』。 Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 14d:
功用： Application: 此式合卸步，提腿，蹤跳，攔刀，撇刀，拉刀等為一式，若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。 This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.
第十五式 拉刀坐盤式 Posture 15: PULLING THE SABER, SITTING TWISTED STANCE
說明： Explanation: 循上式，出右脚以成右登山式，刀自後向前劈，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot steps out to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops forward from behind. See photo 15a:
再原步不變將刀拉過右後方，左掌仍貼右腕，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then with your stance not changing, pull the saber through to the right rear, your left palm staying at your right wrist. See photo 15b:
再蹤身一跳，以成坐盤之勢，刀自右肩過左肩，沿左臂直落，左手化成刁手，以襯托刀背，如『定式圖』。 Then your body hops into a sitting twisted stance [i.e. your left foot going forward, then your right foot doing a stealth step behind it] as the saber goes past your right shoulder to your left shoulder and lowers along your left arm, your left hand becoming a hooking hand, the arm propping up the back of the saber. See photo 15c:
功用： Application: 我旣已劈消來械，再進而坐盤以刀攔砍之。 Having chopped away an incoming weapon, I then advance into a sitting twisted stance while slashing with my saber.
第十六式 拉刀藏刀式 Posture 16: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION
說明： Explanation: 循坐盤步向右轉，刀掠起至肩齊為止，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continue from the sitting twisted stance by turning around to the right as the saber sweeps across and rises to shoulder level. See photo 16a:
再全身躍起變成向南之左跨虎步，刀自右肩轉過左肩，沿左臂之上削出，左掌則自刀背穿出，如『定式圖』。 Then your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance facing toward the south as the saber arcs past your right shoulder to your left shoulder and then slices out over your left arm, your left palm shooting out from the back of the saber. See photo 16b:
功用： Application: 與第八，第十四等式同，祗差方向耳。 Same as in Postures 8 and 14, except that the orientation is different.
第十七式 抱頭攔刀式 Posture 17: WRAPPING AROUND THE HEAD, SLASHING
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先提左脚，刀向額上舉起，左掌貼腕，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first lift your left foot as you lift the saber toward your forehead, your left palm touching your [right] wrist. See photo 17a:
再落下左脚，以成左登山式，刀由背後轉而過於面前，橫殺而出，如『定式圖』。 Then your left foot comes down to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber arcs around behind your back and goes out in front of you, smashing across. See photo 17b:
功用： Application: 與第十一式同，祗方向之異耳。 Same as in Posture 11, except that the orientation is different.
說明： Explanation: 循上式，步由左登山向後轉為右登山式，刀與手皆由後轉前向左右掠開，手與刀俱平正為合，如『定式圖』 Continuing from the previous posture, pivot to the rear to switch from a left mountain-climbing stance to a right mountain-climbing stance while the saber and your left hand arc forward from behind and spread open to the sides. The hand and saber should be spread equally. See photo 18:
功用： Application: 彼械自我後進擊，我為求迅予抵禦計，乃原步化後作前，同時以手與刀左右分之。 An opponent’s weapon attacks me from behind, so I seek to quickly defend against it by staying where I am and changing the rear into the front while spreading to the sides with my left hand and my saber.
第十九式 順步軋刀式 Posture 19: SLIDING STEP, ROLLING THE SABER
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先拉起右脚如跨虎步之狀，刀往後拖去，如「過渡式用圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first pull back your right foot, almost making a sitting-tiger stance as the saber pulls to the rear. See photo 19a:
復借拉步而往前標去，以成右登山步，刀自後反刀鋒向上軋出，如『定式圖』。 Then make use of the reversal of momentum of the foot pulling back to dart forward into a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber goes out from the rear, rolling over so the edge is turned upward. See photo 19b:
功用： Application: 我先拖歸後者是卸其勢，再軋出則是順而反撩之法也。 I first pull to the rear with a withdrawing action, then send out the saber rolling over into a raising action.
第二十式 囘身劈刀式 Posture 20: TURNING THE BODY, CHOP
說明： Explanation: 循上式，原步原刀不變，祗左手以刁手法往後刁去，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your stance and the position of the saber do not change as your left hand becomes a hooking hand and hooks away to the rear. See photo 20a:
再原步轉歸後方以成左登山式，刀自後反身由上劈落，左手化掌力托之，如『定式圖』。 Then your feet turn to the rear while staying in their location, making a left mountain-climbing stance, as the saber goes from behind you and chops down from above, your left hand changing to a palm and forcefully propping it up [i.e. slapping against your right wrist]. See photo 20b:
功用： Application: 彼自我後劈來一械，我先以刁手斜刁之，再囘身用劈殺法迎頭砍之。 An opponent’s weapon chops at me from behind, so I first use a hooking hand to diagonally hook it aside, then turn my body and chop to his head.
第二十一式 撩刀提劈式 Posture 21: RAISING CUT, LIFTING INTO A CHOP
說明： Explanation: 循上式，原步仍未變，祗身畧轉過右後方，刀亦隨身轉上為下，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your stance does not change, but your body slightly turns to the right rear, the saber going along with your body by arcing downward from above. See photo 21a:
再踏右脚，進左脚以成騎馬式，刀隨步轉而歸後，左掌以揷掌法撑出且注以目，如『定式圖』。 Then your right foot stomps and your left foot advances to make a horse-riding stance as the saber arcs to the rear, your left hand going out as a charging palm, your gaze following it. See photo 21b:
功用： Application: 彼械擬向我膝部點來，我先用下撩之法，再轉馬迎胸以掌揷進焉。 An opponent [from behind] tries to use his weapon to do a tapping attack to my [right] knee, so I first send a raising action against it from below, then switch to a horse-riding stance and attack with a charging palm to his chest.
第二十二式 上步軋刀式 Posture 22: STEP FORWARD, ROLLING THE SABER
說明： Explanation: 循上式，進右脚以成右登山式，刀自後下方直向前上撩出，如『定式圖』。 Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot advances to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber goes from the rear, downward, forward, and upward to go out with a raising action. See photo 22:
功用： Application: 與第十九式同。 Same as in Posture 19.
第二十三式 掛刀蓋刀式 Posture 23: HANGING & COVERING
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先提右前脚，刀往後收，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot lifts as the saber withdraws. See photo 23a:
再乘提步之便全身躍起，落下時乃成左跨虎步，刀轉成橫壓而下，左手按於刀背之上，如『定式圖』。 Then go along with the momentum of the leg lifting by hopping [forward] and coming down into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs across and presses down, your left hand pushing on the back of the saber. See photo 23b:
功用： Application: 彼械自我下刺來，我先以刀背掛去之，再乘躍進時更以刀橫壓之。 The opponent’s weapon stabs to my lower area, so I first use the back of my saber to hang it aside, then hop forward and press down with my saber placed sideways.
第二十四式 踏步攔腰式 Posture 24: STOMP, SLASH TO THE WAIST
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先放下前脚，手與刀同時向頭上舉起，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first put your front foot down as your left hand and the saber lift above your head. See photo 24a:
再踏後脚，進前脚以成左登山式，刀自左方轉過背後，再向前橫殺去，如『定式圖』。 Then your rear foot stomps and your front foot advances to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber arcs from the left, passing behind your back, and smashes across in front of you. See photo 24b:
功用： Application: 與十一式，十七式等同。 Same as in Postures 11 and 17.
第二十五式 拉刀收步式 Posture 25: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP
說明： Explanation: 循上左，原步不變，左掌向前，右刀自前經過面前拉向背部，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 25a:
再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀，刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上，左掌化刁手往後抅去，如「定式圖」。 Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 25b:
功用： Application: 彼擬用長械迫我，我先用左手刁去來械，復以右刀自上而下，以資掩護，亦可作劈擊來械之用也。 An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.
第二十六式 竄跳囘身式 Posture 26: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先將右脚開往東方如登山步，刀與左刁手畧掠開，目注視西後方，如「過渡式圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 26a:
再原式不變疾跳過西後方，如「定式圖」。 Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 26b and 26c:
功用： Application: 不論已否扣得來械，我皆向後撤退，以便靜觀其變，俟機出擊是也。 Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.
第二十七式 拉刀坐盤式 Posture 27: PULLING THE SABER, SITTING TWISTED STANCE
說明： Explanation: 循上式，原步不變，刀自左方拉過右方，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, pull the saber across from left to right. See photo 27a:
再全身躍起以成坐盤步，刀自右肩轉過左肩，再沿左臂直落，左刁手托於刀背之中段，如『定式圖』。 Then your body hops into a sitting twisted stance [i.e. your left foot going forward, then your right foot doing a stealth step behind it] as the saber arcs past your right shoulder to your left shoulder and lowers along your left arm, your left hand becoming a hooking hand, the arm propping up the middle section of the back of the saber. See photo 27b:
功用： Application: 當我正自前方撤退之時，迎面忽來另一敵人，於是我乃以拉刀坐盤法以抑制之。 While retreating away from one opponent, I am suddenly faced with another, so I use this technique of pulling my saber while going into a sitting twisted stance in order to control him.
第二十八式 獻刀藏刀式 Posture 28: SHOWING AND THEN HIDING THE SABER
說明： Explanation: 循上式，原步不變，祗高起偸步式，手與刀俱掠起，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, rise up high in your stealth-step position as your left hand and the saber spread apart and rise up. See photo 28a:
再右後脚抽出，繞過面前，刀則攔於左上方，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then your right foot draws out from behind and arcs around in front of you as the saber blocks to the upper left. See photo 28b:
再乘提右脚之勢跳往左方，再成為狀類左登山式之右吞塌式，刀自背繞過面前，復收於左腰腋之間，目向後注視，如『定式圖』。 Then take advantage of the momentum of your right foot lifting by hopping to the left to make a right absorb & sink stance, similar to a left mountain-climbing stance [except that you are looking to the rear], as the saber arcs around past your back and in front of you to withdraw to the area between your left armpit and your waist. Your gaze is behind you. See photo 28c:
功用： Application: 彼械擬自我斜方攻來，我即轉身易步用提與攔劈之方式抵禦之。 An opponent’s weapon tries to attack me from an angle, so I turn to face him while shifting my stance, using a technique of lifting and slashing to defend against it.
第二十九式 拉刀藏刀式 Posture 29: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION
說明： Explanation: 循上式，刀與手不變，先進左脚，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 29a:
再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚，左刁手仍抅後，刀則沿右膝部殺落，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 29b:
左手與步不讓，刀循前下方繞過背部，右手直舉，如「過渡式丙圖」。 With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 29c:
乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳，以成左跨虎之勢，刀則轉過左左肩斜向前落，落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如「定式圖」 Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 29d:
功用： Application: 此式合卸步，提腿，蹤跳，攔刀，撇刀，拉刀等為一式，若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。 This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.
第三十式 劈刀軋刀式 Posture 30: CHOPPING & ROLLING
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先出右脚以成右登山步，刀自後劈出，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot goes out to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops out from the rear. See photo 30a:
再轉步為騎馬式，刀自面前斜方向直綫劈出，如『定式圖』。 Then switch to a horse-riding stance as the saber moves diagonally from in front of you to chop out straight ahead. See photo 30b:
功用： Application: 介乎第九第十式之間，抑亦為聯合之法也。 Same as in Postures 9 and 10, combined into a single technique.
第三十一式 掛刀掛劍式 Posture 31: HANGING THE SABER TO HANG ASIDE A SWORD
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先提右脚，刀往左後方平收，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot lifts as the saber withdraws across to the left rear. See photo 31a:
步仍不變，刀由後轉前，反刀鋒為向上，如「過渡式乙圖」。 With your stance not changing, the saber arcs forward from the rear, turning over so the edge is facing upward. See photo 31b:
然後向前跳去，以成坐盤之勢，刀由上橫殺而落，左掌按於刀背之上，如『定式』。 Then you hop out forward to make a sitting twisted stance as the saber smashes down from above with the blade going across, your left hand pushing on the back of the saber. See photo 31c:
功用： Application: 我提步收刀者，是將來刀掛開，再反出者亦為掛刀之一法，再進馬坐盤橫壓刀者，則是蓋去來劍之法。 When I lift a leg and withdraw my saber, this is a means of hanging aside an incoming weapon. When I then turn the saber over, this is also a method of hanging. When I then advance into sitting twisted while pressing my saber across, this is a method of covering an incoming sword.
第三十二式 囘身劈刀式 Posture 32: TURNING THE BODY, CHOP
說明： Explanation: 循上式，退右脚以成騎馬式，刀隨而平殺過後方，如「定式圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot retreats to make a horse-riding stance as the saber smashes across to the rear. See photo 32:
功用： Application: 與廿一式圖同。 Same as in Posture 21.
第三十三式 上步軋刀式 Posture 33: STEP FORWARD, ROLLING THE SABER
說明： Explanation: 循上式，進右脚以成右登山式，刀自後下方直向前上撩出，如「定式圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot advances to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber goes from the rear, downward, forward, and upward to go out with a raising action. See photo 33:
功用： Application: 與二十二式同。 Same as in Posture 22.
第三十四式 踏步劈刀式 Posture 34: STOMPING STEP, CHOPPING
說明： Explanation: 循上式原步不動，刀向後斜收，左手向前刁去，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, the saber withdraws diagonally to the rear while your left hand goes forward, hooking away. See photo 34a:
再踏右脚，進左脚以成左登山式，左刁手拉歸後，而刀則向前直劈去，如「定式圖」。 Then your right foot stomps and your left foot advances to make a left mountain-climbing stance as your left hooking hand pulls back behind you and the saber chops out forward with the blade standing straight up. See photo 34b:
功用： Application: 彼欲以械擊我頭部，我先以左手刁去之，再乘踏步進馬，以直劈刀兜頭劈之。 The opponent tries to use his weapon to strike to my head, so I first use my left hand to hook it away, then stomp and advance while using my saber to chop to his face.
第三十伍式 扑刀推刀式 Posture 35: REACHING-LEG STANCE, PUSHING THE SABER
說明： Explanation: 循上式，左右脚不變原來位置，祗由登山式往後扑成扑腿法耳！刀亦隨步而下，左掌刀托於右腕之內，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your feet stay in their location and you simply shift back to the rear, going from a mountain-climbing stance to a reaching-leg stance, the saber going along with this stance change by coming down, your left hand propping up at the inside of your right wrist. See photo 35a:
再提起右脚，左掌移開以托刀背，刀斜舉向外，如『定式圖』。 Then your right foot lifts and your left hand shifts away to prop up the back of the saber as the saber goes outward, raising diagonally. See photo 35b:
功用： Application: 彼械迎頭劈落，我先扑腿以卸其勢，復跟刀推出逼之。 The opponent’s weapon chops down toward my head, so I first go into a reaching-leg stance in order to withdraw away from it, then I follow this by pushing out with the saber to crowd him.
第三十六式 提步劈刀式 Posture 36: CHOPPING WITH A LEG LIFTED
〔說明：〕 [Explanation:] 循上式，以小跳換步法，使右脚着地而起左脚，刀自前往後直劈，左掌橫遮於頭上，如『定式圖』。 Continuing from the previous posture, do a small hop to switch feet, bringing your right foot down and lifting your left foot, as the saber chops from the front to the rear, your left palm blocking across above your head. See photo 36:
功用： Application: 我逼彼走過後方或另一人自後攻來，我不俟其逼近即先以刀兜頭劈之。 I crowd the opponent as he passes around behind me, or another opponent attacks from behind, so without waiting for him to get close, I pre-empt him by chopping to his head.
第三十七式 迎門刺劍式 Posture 37: STABBING STRAIGHT AHEAD LIKE A SWORD
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先左脚落地，刀斜掛於前，如「過渡式甲圖」 Continuing from the previous posture, first your left foot comes down and the saber hangs diagonally in front of you. See photo 37a:
再原刀不動，右脚進前，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then with the saber maintaining its position, your right foot advances. See photo 37b:
左脚自後進前以成坐盤步，刀則緊收於胸腹之間，如「過渡式丙圖」。 Your left foot advances behind you [i.e. does a stealth step] to make a sitting twisted stance as the saber withdraws until between your chest and belly. See photo 37c:
再原步不變，刀自胸前直流而出，掌則橫掠於上，如『定式圖』。 With your stance not changing, the saber flows straight out from in front of your chest, as your left palm spreads away upward to the side. See photo 37d [same position as in photo 4b of Sundial Sword, except with the edge turned upward]:
功用： Application: 分圖多，是因易於學習耳！其用時合數動作於一。實集，挑，迎，封，閉，刺於其中矣。 This technique is divided into so many photos just to make it easier for you to follow. It contains several aspects in application – such as gathering, carrying, blocking, sealing, and stabbing – but is really just a single technique.
第三十八式 跟馬三刀式 Posture 38: FOLLOWING STEPS WITH THREE SABER ACTIONS [the third occurring in the following posture]
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先提起左脚，繼而伸直右手以舉直刀，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first lift your left foot as your right hand raises the saber. See photo 38a:
再原步不變，刀由右繞過背部，再經胸前而復返於下，左掌則抺刀背而出，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then with your stance not changing, the saber arcs from the right, going around your back, passes in front of your chest, and then goes back downward as your left palm goes out wiping along the back of the saber. See photo 38b:
再落左脚換提右脚，復將刀拉起，如「過渡式丙圖」 Then your left foot comes down and you switch to lifting your right foot as you again pull the saber up. See photo 38c:
再原步不動，刀再循背部拉前，後歸於後下方，左掌穿出至直，如『定式圖』。 Then with your stance not changing, the saber again goes around your back, is pulled in front of you, and returns downward to the rear as your left palm shoots out. See photo 38d:
功用： Application: 提步攔刀實對中下路之攻勢為有效之遏止方法，左右相轉者乃使知左右合一之方式而已。 Lifting a leg and slashing with the saber is a very effective method of dealing with an attack to the middle or lower area. Switching my legs allows me to feel more confident that I am protecting myself on both sides.
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先原步不動，再次將刀舉起，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, again lift up the saber. See photo 39a:
然後以小跳方式向前落下以成扑腿勢，刀亦隨步繞過背部再轉於前落下，左掌直出，如『定式圖』。 Then do a little hop forward and dropping down to make a reaching-leg stance as the saber arcs past your back, forward, and downward, your left palm going straight out. See photo 39b:
功用： Application: 彼以下三路搶進，我即落馬用刀封閉之。 The opponent uses his spear to attack my lower area for the third time, so I drop my stance and use my saber to seal off his weapon.
第四十式 囘身削櫈式 Posture 40: TURN AROUND, SLICE THROUGH A STOOL
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先將左脚拉起以成類於登山勢，刀乃隨之起至頭上，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your left foot pulls back and you rise to almost make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber going along with this action by rising above your head. See photo 40a:
再起右後脚，使全身向左轉過後方，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then your right foot lifts and you pivot your whole body to the left until facing to the rear. See photo 40b:
落右脚以成騎馬式，刀繞過背後復轉平殺而出，左掌倚右肩之上，如『定式圖』。 Your right foot comes down to make a horse-riding stance as the saber arcs around behind you and smashes across [to the left], your left palm going over your right shoulder. See photo 40c:
功用： Application: 此削櫈法乃專砍殺步馬為主旨對方欲自我後擊入，我乃採此以砍其足也。 The main purpose of this action of “slicing through a stool” is to destroy an opponent’s stance. An opponent is about to attack me from behind, so I make use of this technique to slash at his leg.
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先原步不動，再次將刀舉起，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, again lift up the saber. See photo 41a:
然後以小跳方式向前落下以成扑腿勢，刀亦隨步繞過背都再轉於前落下，左掌直出，如『定式圖』。 Then do a little hop forward and dropping down to make a reaching-leg stance as the saber arcs past your back, forward, and downward, your left palm going straight out. See photo 41b:
功用： Application: 彼以下三路搶進，我即落馬用刀封閉之。 The opponent again uses his spear to attack my lower area, so I again drop my stance and use my saber to seal off his weapon.
第四十二式 上步攔腰式 Posture 42: STEP FORWARD, SLASH TO THE WAIST
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先起左脚以成如登山之勢，將刀橫架而起，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your left leg rises to almost make a mountain-climbing stance as you send the saber upward and blocking across. See photo 42a:
再進右脚轉身乃成成左登山式，刀自背後橫過而前，如『定式圖」。 Then your right foot advances and your body turns around to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber passes behind your back and goes across in front of you. See photo 42b:
功用： Application: 與十七、二十四等同。 Same as in Postures 17 and 24.
第四十三式 拉刀收步式 Posture 43: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP
說明： Explanation: 循上左，原步不變，左掌向前，右刀目前經過面前拉向背部，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 43a:
再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀，刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上，左掌化刁手往後抅去，如「定式圖」。 Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 43b:
功用： Application: 彼擬用長械迫我，我先用左手刁去來械，復以右刀自上而下，以資掩護，亦可作劈擊來械之用也。 An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.
第四十四式 竄跳囘身式 Posture 44: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先將右脚開往東方如登山步，刀與左刁手畧掠開，目注視西後方，如「過渡式圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 44a:
再原式不變疾跳過西後方，如「定式圖」。 Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 44b and 44c:
功用： Application: 不論已否扣得來械，我皆向後撤退，以便靜觀其變，俟機出擊是也。 Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.
第四十五式 拉刀藏刀式 Posture 45: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION
說明： Explanation: 循上式，刀與手不變，先進左脚，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 45a:
再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚，左刁手仍抅後，刀則沿右膝部殺落，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 45b:
左手與步不讓，刀循前下方繞過背部，右手直舉，如「過渡式丙圖」。 With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 45c:
乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳，以成左跨虎之勢，刀則轉過左左肩斜向前落，落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如「定式圖」 Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 45d:
功用： Application: 此式合卸步，提腿，蹤跳，攔刀，撇刀，拉刀等為一式，若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。 This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.
第四十六式 拉刀坐盤式 Posture 46: PULLING THE SABER, SITTING TWISTED STANCE
說明： Explanation: 循上左，出右脚以成右登山式，刀自後向前劈，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot steps out to make a right mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops forward from behind. See photo 46a:
再原步不變將刀拉過右後方，左掌仍貼右腕如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then with your stance not changing, pull the saber through to the right rear, your left palm staying at your right wrist. See photo 46b:
再蹤身一跳，以成坐盤之勢，刀自右肩過左肩，沿左臂直落，左手化成刁手，以襯托刀背，如「定式圖」。 Then your body hops into a sitting twisted stance [i.e. your left foot going forward, then your right foot doing a stealth step behind it] as the saber goes past your right shoulder to your left shoulder and lowers along your left arm, your left hand becoming a hooking hand, the arm propping up the back of the saber. See photo 46c:
功用： Application: 我旣已劈消來械，再進而坐盤以刀攔砍之。 Having chopped away an incoming weapon, I then advance into a sitting twisted stance while slashing with my saber.
第四十七式 中門攔刀式 Posture 47: SLASHING AROUND THE MIDDLE
說明： Explanation: 循上式，由右轉以成為登山之狀，刀則隨身而轉，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, pivot around to the right to almost make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber arcing along with the turning of your body. See photo 47a:
再將左脚自右脚之前偸過右前方，刀則撇上，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then your left foot does a stealth step forward to the right, passing in front of your right foot, as the saber swings upward. See photo 47b:
再將右脚移往右方，刀則由背部繞過左肩之上，如「過渡式丙圖」。 Then your right foot shifts to the right as the saber arcs around your back to be over your left shoulder. See photo 47c:
再拉起右脚以成左跨虎步，刀再往右上方掠起，如「定式圖」。 Then pull back your right [left] foot to make a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber sweeps upward to the right. See photo 47d:
功用： Application: 此是專破上門攻來之械，繞行數步者是趨避之法也。 This technique focuses on ruining the attack of incoming weapon to my upper area. The arcing steps are a method of evading.
第四十八式 左門攔刀式 Posture 48: SLASHING TO THE LEFT
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先將左脚往左方移開以成如登山之勢，刀自上劈落以交於前，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your left foot shifts out to the left to almost make a mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops downward from above to go across in front of you. See photo 48a:
再進右脚，刀向上畧舉高，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then your right foot advances as the saber slightly rises up. See photo 48b:
再進左脚，刀循左肩經背部繞過右肩之上，如「過渡式丙圖」。 Then your left foot advances as the saber arcs from your left shoulder around your back and over your right shoulder. See photo 48c:
再進右脚以成右跨虎步，刀自右肩劈過左腰之下，如「定式圖」。 Then your right foot advances to make a right sitting-tiger stance as the saber chops downward from your right shoulder past the left side of your waist. See photo 48d:
功用： Application: 與四十七式同祗方向之異耳。 Same as in Posture 47, except going in the opposite direction.
第四十九式 右門攔刀式 Posture 49: SLASHING TO THE RIGHT
說明： Explanation: 循上式，右脚先向右移動，刀由下而掠高於右，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot shifts to the right as the saber sweeps upward to the right from below. See photo 49a:
再過左脚於前方，刀自右繞過背部而復轉於前，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then your left foot goes forward as the saber again arcs from the right to go around your back and in front of you. See photo 49b:
再進右脚，刀由上而落，如「過渡式丙圖」。 Then your right foot advances as the saber lowers from above. See photo 49c:
左脚再斜步進前以成跨虎之勢，刀由下復上以成刀與步之斜式，如「定式圖」。 Then your left foot advances diagonally to make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber again goes upward from below so that both the saber and the stance are in diagonal positions. See photo 49d:
功用： Application: 與四十七、四十八同，祗斜正及方向之別耳。 Same as in Postures 47 and 48, except going diagonally in a different direction.
第五十式 上步攔腰式 Posture 50: STEP FORWARD, SLASH TO THE WAIST
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先起左脚以成如登山之勢，將刀橫架而起，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your left leg rises to almost make a mountain-climbing stance as you send the saber upward and blocking across. See photo 50a:
再進右脚轉身乃成成左登山式，刀自背後橫過而前，如『定式圖」。 Then your right foot advances and your body turns around to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber passes behind your back and goes across in front of you. See photo 50b:
功用： Application: 與十七、二十四等同。 Same as in Postures 17 and 24.
第五十一式 拉刀收步式 Posture 51: PULLING THE SABER, GATHERING STEP
說明： Explanation: 循上左，原步不變，左掌向前，右刀目前經過面前拉向背部，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with your stance not changing, your left palm goes forward as your right hand pulls the saber across from in front of you to be behind you. See photo 51a:
再以右後脚跟前如跨虎步形狀，刀循背部沿左臂直落止於腕上，左掌化刁手往後抅去，如「定式圖」。 Then your right foot follows forward to almost make a sitting-tiger stance as the saber passes through behind you and lowers along your left arm until above the wrist, your left palm becoming a hooking hand and hooking away to the rear. See photo 51b:
功用： Application: 彼擬用長械迫我，我先用左手刁去來械，復以右刀自上而下，以資掩護，亦可作劈擊來械之用也。 An opponent using a long weapon tries to attack me, so I first use my left hand to hook it aside, then send my saber downward from above as a means of shielding myself, or I can also use this action to chop away his weapon.
第五十二式 竄跳囘身式 Posture 52: SCURRYING AWAY WITH THE BODY TURNED
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先將右脚開往東方如登山步，刀與左刁手畧掠開，目注視西後方，如「過渡式圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot steps out toward the east as though to make a mountain-climbing stance, the saber and your left hooking hand slightly sweeping aside. Your gaze is behind you toward the west. See photo 52a:
再原式不變疾跳過西後方，如「定式圖」。 Then while maintaining this position, suddenly hop back [twice] to the west [east]. See photos 52b and 52c:
功用： Application: 不論已否扣得來械，我皆向後撤退，以便靜觀其變，俟機出擊是也。 Regardless of whether or not I have succeeded in drawing aside the opponent’s weapon, I retreat to watch for what he will do next and wait for the opportunity to attack.
第五十三式 拉刀藏刀式 Posture 53: PULLING THE SABER INTO A STORING POSITION
說明： Explanation: 循上式，刀與手不變，先進左脚，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, with the saber and your left hand not changing their position, first your left foot advances. See photo 53a:
再轉右東而反向西方提起右脚，左刁手仍抅後，刀則沿右膝部殺落，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then turn around to the right to go from facing toward the east to be facing toward the west as your right foot lifts, your left hand still hooking behind, and the saber smashes down beside your right knee. See photo 53b:
左手與步不讓，刀循前下方繞過背部，右手直舉，如「過渡式丙圖」。 With your left hand and legs not changing their position, the saber follows through forward and downward and arcs behind your back, your right arm rising until vertical. See photo 53c:
乘提右脚之便蹤身一跳，以成左跨虎之勢，刀則轉過左左肩斜向前落，落時左手須由胸前化掌穿出為合如「定式圖」 Going along with the lifting of your right leg, your body hops into a left sitting-tiger stance as the saber arcs past your left shoulder and lowers diagonally in front of you, your left hand becoming a palm and shooting out forward from in front of your chest at the same moment that the saber lowers. See photo 53d:
功用： Application: 此式合卸步，提腿，蹤跳，攔刀，撇刀，拉刀等為一式，若善於運用則合攻守於一矣。 This posture combines a withdrawing step, lifting leg, hop, and the saber actions of blocking, swinging, and pulling into a single technique. If you are good at applying it, then defense and offense will be combined into a single action.
第五十四式 踏步劈刀式 Posture 54: STOMPING STEP, CHOPPING
說明： Explanation: 循上式，右後脚用力踏地求與前左脚相貼，再以左掌加於右腕內齊向上舉起，如「過式渡甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, your right foot forcefully stomps the ground right in front of your left foot as your right hand raises up, your left palm going to the inside of your right wrist. See photo 54a:
再開進左脚以成左登山式，刀自背後直砍而出，左掌則橫架於頂如「定式圖」。 Then your left foot advances to make a left mountain-climbing stance as the saber chops out from behind you, your left palm blocking across above your head. See photo 54b:
功用： Application: 來械直向我面部刺來，我先以刀橫去之，再乘勢以直劈法還擊彼面部焉。 An incoming weapon is stabbing to my head, so I first use my saber to send it aside, then follow through with the motion by doing a chop straight ahead to counterattack to the opponent’s face.
第五十五式 拉刀四平式 Posture 55: PULLING THE SABER, FOUR-LEVEL POSTURE
說明： Explanation: 循上式，先提右脚，刀沿脚傍撇下，左掌仍不動，如「過渡式甲圖」。 Continuing from the previous posture, first your right foot lifts as the saber swings downward beside the foot, your left palm not moving. See photo 55a:
再原步不動，刀從下轉上以加於左臂之上，如「過渡式乙圖」。 Then with your stance not changing, the saber arcs upward from below to go on top of your left arm. See photo 55b:
再原步不動，左手捧囘原刀，左掌向大腿處拍落，如「過渡式丙圖」。 Then with your stance still not changing, your left hand holds the saber as it did at the beginning and your left [right] palm comes down, slapping your [right] thigh. See photo 55c:
再退提起之脚以成左跨虎步，右掌轉而向上橫架於頭頂，左手刀向後斜拖，如「定式圖」。 Then your lifted leg retreats to make a left sitting-tiger stance as your right palm arcs upward to block across above your headtop, your left hand pulling back the saber until it is diagonal behind you. See photo 55d:
斯為收式之刀法，全刀五十五式至此已還復本來面目。 This is the closing posture of the saber set, bringing you back to your original position and facing the same direction as before.
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[Included below is a related piece from Huang’s Notes on the Mantis Boxing Art (1951).]
單刀搜秘 SECRETS OF THE SINGLE SABER
昔者武壇多譽先師全才，蓋先師當日除擅拳法、鐵砂掌外，各種武器靡不精研，尤以單刀一類有所獨到，唯不趨尚時髦、討好觀衆，雜以滾地等動作，謹守武術界之尊嚴，余習藝時曾蒙以十法見示，十法者劈、軋、抅、掛、削、拍、挑、撩、搜、撈是也。考刀術為各種武器中之最繁雜之一，唐以前用刀者俱為長桿子之大砍刀（即俗稱之大關刀），此名之由來，實因武聖用刀且姓關之故，至宋室中葉，水滸英雄武松與浪子燕靑俱以步戰馳譽，前者固以行者棒號稱天下莫敵，後者却以單刀得名，故至今有燕靑單刀之技傳於世。 大砍刀、單刀、斬馬刀之外尚有雙刀，世人不察每以雙刀比單為難，其實雙刀之為用，祗兩手平均、步法靈活便可運用自如，其法甚簡單而已。 單刀看手一語，為單刀之心法，亦為單刀中之至難安置之處，試觀夫稍懂一、二者常自詡為精於單刀法，然其演習時又常常刀與手脫節，全不注重刀與手之配合，其能謂之於精乎，即為舞台上當生旦對答之時正在悠揚悅耳之表情與動作同時演出，使觀衆全神灌注，當斯時也甚少人注視其背後所飾演之童僕之形狀，若空無所握之左手即等於童僕耳，若不有所動作便形同虛設，更且陷於本身痲痺之狀，若說實用更無所扶襯相托矣。 練刀之法除刀與手互相動作毋使一方有所停滯之外，尚須刀與身貼，步隨勢移方為刀之正法，刀如猛虎一語實形容其勢雄猛之處，又曰拼命用單刀之說，凡以單刀臨陣應敵者苟存恐懼之心，無不為敵所敗，蓋單刀為短兵刃，若與長兵械相接，其勢固拙，瑟縮不前者必為長械所乘無疑，但立拼命之心長者為我所接，則我一躍而前，長短之勢有所平合，勝敗之機互握半數，若更因勢利導，緊握時機，敵為我乘，則其敗立判矣，今之練刀者苟能髓味斯旨，距成功之域近矣。 Master Luo’s versatility was often praised in martial arts circles. Beyond his mastery of boxing methods and iron palm skills, he had intensively studied various kinds of weapons, becoming uniquely adept at the single saber in particular. But as he did not care about what was popular or what would impress an audience, he did not mix in tricks like rolling around on the ground, concerned only with preserving the dignity of the martial arts world. When I learned this art, it was presented to me as being comprised of ten techniques: chopping, rolling, hooking, hanging, slicing, patting, carrying, raising, searching, and scooping. Examining the saber arts shows it to be one of the most varied of the many weapons. Prior to the Tang Dynasty, the “sabers” used were all long-pole large cleaving sabers, what is commonly called the large “Guan Saber”, so named because it was used by the martial sage Guan Yu. During the middle period of the Song Dynasty, “The Pilgrim” Wu Song and “The Wanderer” Yan Qing, heroic characters from The Water Margin, both became famous for their martial deeds. The former used a staff, with which he was considered to be invincible, while the latter became known for his use of the single saber, after which is named the “Yan Qing’s Single Saber” set that has been passed down to us to this day. Beyond the large cleaving saber, single saber, and horse-slashing saber, there is also the double sabers. Most people do not scrutinize and simply assume that the double sabers are more difficult than the single saber. Using the double sabers is actually only a matter of both hands working evenly and the feet stepping nimbly, and then you will be able to wield them smoothly. Its techniques are really very simple. There is a saying: “With the single saber, be mindful of your other hand.” This is a core principle of the single saber, as well as the most difficult aspect of it. Observe someone who understands the art very little and yet often brags that he is an expert at the single saber. When he performs, his saber and left hand constantly lose coordination between each other, and he never pays attention to having cooperation between them. How could he be considered an expert? When a dancer on a stage begins to sing, and her sweet singing is performed in tandem with her movements, the audience becomes rapt with attention. In that moment, very few people would notice the stagehands in the background. If the saber practitioner’s left hand is so uninvolved that it becomes like one of those invisible stagehands, or if it is moving with so little purpose that it almost turns into some paralyzed appendage, then it will seem to be of no real use at all. When practicing the saber methods, beyond the saber and hand coordinating with each other rather than either of them becoming sluggish, the saber has to move close to the body, and the step has to shift along with the movement in order for the saber’s techniques to be precise. This saying expresses well the required quality of fearsomeness: “The saber is like a fierce tiger.” There is also this saying: “Defy death as you wield the single saber.” Whenever you use the single saber to battle against opponents, if there is fear in your heart, you will always be defeated. Because the single saber is a short weapon, if my saber connects with a long weapon, I would of course be in an awkward position. If I am then too timid to go forward, his long weapon is certain to have the advantage, but if instead I have a mentality of defying death, his long weapon will then be under my control. Therefore I charge in, leveling the odds between long and short, grasping the decisive moment between victory and defeat. Treating half a chance as more than half, I act in accordance with the situation, seize the opportunity, and take advantage of the opponent’s position, and thus his defeat becomes a more likely outcome than mine. If you modern saber practitioners can deeply think upon this point, you will be much closer to success.
The images in this post are taken from Daniel Mak and Alex Jung’s excellent documentary “The Origins of Macau Wing Chun.” Its well worth watching and you can read more about it here.
Guoshu in the Pearl River Delta
In a recent post I attempted to move away from the triumphalist rhetoric that accompanies many popular discussions of the Guoshu movement and ask how its institutional limitations (rather than its strengths) shaped the spread of Northern martial arts styles in the Pearl River Delta region during the 1920s and 1930s. That essay addressed events in one small region as in my research I have found that to really understand any social movement it is often necessary to move away from national level narratives. While helpful in understanding a movement’s goals, such discussion can obscure the reality of how reforms were actually implemented (and co-opted) at the local level. That can, in turn, lead to the uncritical acceptance of politically inflected historical narratives and a bad case of selective memory.
For instance, while investigating attempts to establish “official” Guoshu chapters in the Guangzhou area, we discovered that the success of these efforts were very much dependent on the support of the governor’s office. Yet in an era characterized by unstable and quickly shifting politics, such political alliances often proved to be a liability. Ambitious efforts to rebuild Guangdong’s martial arts culture through legislative fiat were doomed by the KMT’s constant internal upheavals. Northern masters found considerably more success in spreading their styles once they were freed (partially) from political patronage structures and able to establish commercial schools that could compete in the economic marketplace.
This essay expands on that discussion by asking two additional questions. First, Andrew Morris has noted that all sorts of modernizing groups (New Wushu, Jingwu, Guoshu), while typically successful in China’s major cities, tended to have trouble penetrating the countryside. That was a significant problem as the vast majority of China’s martial artists lived far from the large cities. Given the geographic limitations of the Republic era’s hand combat reform movements, what do we see in the Guangdong case? Was the Guoshu movement able to establish branches outside of the sophisticated and well-connected provincial capital of Guangzhou? If so, how did these organizations function?
Our second question is closely related to the first. Given that Guangdong had a vibrant martial arts subculture prior to the importation of the Guoshu movement in the late 1920s, in what ways did local martial arts groups attempt to resist or co-opt this new expression of Chinese identity through martial practice? Elite reformers saw the Guoshu movement not just as a way to promote mundane public health goals. They sought to use a single, centrally controlled, program of physical training and competition to increase nationalism, militarism and loyalty to the party. Yet the Chinese martial arts had traditionally been a vehicle for the expression of much more local and regional identities. How were local groups able to capitalize on the weakness of the Chinese state to use such centrally sponsored reform efforts for their own ends?
The following essay begins by shifting our focus away from Guangzhou to Foshan, a nearby market town and manufacturing center. It examines the rise of the Zhong Yi Martial Arts Athletic Association. Perhaps the second most important regional martial arts organization between the 1920s and the 1940s, a close examination of developments in Foshan suggests that while the Guoshu movement looked quite strong on paper, in actual fact its unifying and centralizing agenda faced stiff opposition. Ironically, the Guoshu label was even used to empower the sorts of local, traditional, secretive and sectarian identities which its national level rhetoric vocally opposed and claimed to have supplanted.
Foshan
Given Guangzhou’s status as the political capital and cultural center of Guangdong Province, it is only natural that the Central Guoshu Institute would concentrate their reform efforts there. But how far out into the countryside did these measures penetrate? The case of Foshan, an economically vibrant market town only a short distance from the capital, suggests the level of complexity that may have been encountered. Still, given Foshan’s wealth, rapid economic modernization and long history as a center for hand combat development, one would think that if the Guoshu movement could succeed anywhere, it would surely find a foothold here.
The development of Foshan’s “Guoshu” related efforts (and we must use that term carefully) began shortly after the failure of the Liangguang Guoshu Institute in Guangzhou (discussed here) in the 1929-1930 period. Yet rather than importing a group of distinguished Northern instructors, as the Governor did in Guangzhou, Foshan moved in a radically different direction. Instead of creating a new organization, the locally prominent network of “Yi” schools, whose teaching curriculum focused almost entirely on Hung Gar and Wing Chun, were reorganized into something more official with closer ties to the local KMT party structure.
While much has been written about the history of both Wing Chun and Hung Gar, the social significance of the Yi network has been largely neglected in favor of more traditional lineage and instructor specific biographies. That sort of rhetoric is historically problematic as it both lends itself to hagiography and obscures the ways in which martial arts groups interacted with the larger community. In fact, even before their formalization at the end of the 1920s, the Yi network of martial arts schools were an important force in the local community and the increasingly violent debates that accompanied the emergence of an independent labor movement.
Still, it was not the largest alliance of schools and instructors in Foshan at the time. That honor was held by the various Choy Li Fut schools organized through the Hung Sing Association. We previously discussed the creation and significance of this group at length in our volume on the history of the Southern Chinese martial arts. For the purposes of the current argument it is enough to note that by the 1920s the Hung Sing Association was recruiting much of its membership from the ranks of Foshan’s handicraft sector and the newly emerging industrial working class. In addition to hand combat training Hung Sing also provided a means for workers to network, organize and look for employment. All of this quickly drew the association into relationships with more radical elements of the local labor movement including trade unions and organizers from the Community Party.
In contrast, the Hung Gar and Wing Chun schools organized by the Yi network often (though not always) recruited their membership from the ranks of skilled local workers or small business owners. Such individuals were better positioned to benefit from the global shifts in trade, investment and economic structure that typically threatened the livelihoods of less skilled workers. It should not be surprising to discover that many of the Yi schools were financially backed by the region’s more conservative “yellow trade unions” who opposed the types of the demands that the more radical (“red”) labor movement was making. Indeed, the Yi Schools and the Hung Sing Association clashed (sometimes violently) throughout the 1920s. Much of what has been preserved in lineage histories as “ancient rivalries” between competing martial arts styles should probably be reframed as local expressions of the sorts of class conflict that gripped the entire industrialized world during the 1930s. But how did the Yi Schools first emerge?
That question has proved difficult to answer as, after 1949, the Communist government classified the Zhong Yi Martial Arts Athletic Association as a violent right wing group with a “special historical background.” As such local society went to some lengths to suppress not just the membership of the group but its historical memory as well. Nevertheless, two local historians, Xiao Hai Ming and Zou Wen Ping, have been able to reconstruct some key facts about the organization.
During the final years of the Qing dynasty a resident of Zhangcha Village (now a part of Foshan’s urban sprawl) named Zhao Xi organized the “Xing Yi” martial arts school. Sadly, Xiao and Zou were not able to discover much about Zhao’s background. But it is clear that he was a Hung Gar instructor and his schools were the first in the Foshan area to bear the “Yi” suffix. We might also surmise that Zhao was a talented businessman and he found ways to franchise and leverage his personal reputation. Eventually six schools appeared (Yong Yi, Xiong Yi, Qun Yi, Ju Yi, and Ying Yi) all associated with the initial Xing Yi location. This set of schools is said to have constituted the core of the larger “Yi” martial arts system. Xiao and Zou noted that both Hung Gar and Wing Chun were taught within this network, though they were not able to reconstruct a full list of instructors.
As is typically the case, things are most opaque during the early years of the Yi network. We have more information on events which occurred in the 1920s and 1930s. But our best information stems from the 1940s, just prior to the victory of the CCP. As we review this period Wing Chun students may even begin to spot some familiar names. Jiu Chao (1902-1972) taught Wing Chun at the Zhong Yi Association branch located at Kuai Zi Lane after 1945. Like Ip Man, he came from a wealthy local family. He learned Wing Chun from Chan Yiu Min, the son of Chan Wah Shun (Ip Man’s first instructor). Jiu also opened another martial arts school in Zhongshan and is said to have had over 100 students between his two schools. Perhaps his best-known disciple was Pan Nam.
Jiu’s career might also offer us some insight into the relationship between Wing Chun and Hung Gar within the Yi network. While an acknowledged Wing Chun master, Jiu appears to have been most famous within the local community for his excellence with a wide variety of weapons that are more typically associated with Hung Gar. These included the multiple varieties of iron chains, single and double swords, sabers and the eyebrow staff. That certainly suggests a degree of cross-training.
Cheung Bo (1899-1956) may also have taught for the Zhong Yi Association. Rene Ritchie notes that Cheung Bo’s lineage is not totally clear and that he likely learned both Wing Chun and bone setting from Wai Yuk Sang, who was a doctor employed by the Nationalist Army. Cheung became a chef at the Foshan Tien Hoi Restaurant and was close friends with Yuen Kay San. In addition to his “restaurant class” he may also have taught at the “Hui Yi” martial arts school. Cheung was responsible for the early training of Sum Num who he later introduced to Yuen Kay San.
It was during the 1920s that the Yi schools more closely aligned themselves with local business interests, “yellow” trade unions and the rightwing of the provincial KMT leadership. They clashed repeatedly with the more radical Hung Sing Association over the various strikes and pickets promoted by the leftist organization. It appears that at times they may even have been used as strikebreakers.
As Guoshu activity began to accelerate in Guangzhou, only a short distance away, the Yi schools decided to formally unite and organize themselves as the Zhong Yi Martial Arts Athletic Association. The new group had about a dozen branches (all in Foshan) during the early 1930s. Its official membership has been estimated at about 1000 individuals, making it about one third the size of Hung Sing at its 1927 peak. It should be remembered that this later organization was closed by the KMT during the crackdown on Communists that followed the Northern Expedition and the Shanghai Massacre in the same year.
Of the many ways of expressing “martial arts,” the Zhong Yi Association adopted the term “Guoshu.” Still, it remains unclear what sort of relationship (if any) the group had with the Central Guoshu Institute. There is no evidence that they adopted the standardized Nanjing curriculum meant to unify the Chinese people behind a single set of (mostly Northern) practices. Nor did this group attempt to pursue the sorts of radical ideological reforms of the martial arts sectors that the short lived Liangguang Guoshu Institute had demanded. Indeed, the Zhong Yi Association was composed of exactly the sorts of regional, traditional, sectarian and secretive styles that national Guoshu reformers so desperately sought to eliminate. It is thus reasonable to ask whether, or how, this group functioned as an extension of the Guoshu movement.
Perhaps the clearest answer to this comes when we look at the organization’s leadership flowchart. The first thing that we see is that its president was none other than Zhang Qi Duan, the KMT Party Secretary for Nanhai County. Indeed, prominent local citizens and KMT functionaries filled all of these leadership roles. While there is no evidence that the Yi schools adopted any of the substance of the national Guoshu reform movement, it does appear that local elites consciously decided that they were more interested in having political control over the local martial arts community (particularly at a time when it was embroiled in frequent violent clashes with the labor movement) than the details of what styles were to be taught. It was easier and more efficient for local leadership to co-opt a preexisting group, rebranding it as part of the Guoshu movement, than to create yet another competing school staffed with imported martial artists.
If this interpretation of the historical facts is correct, the choice to simply work with the Zhong Yi Association represents a telling concession to the realities of the local martial arts marketplace. Given the intensely local nature of most schools, it seems that the top-down, state centric, model of martial arts reform promoted by the Central Guoshu Institute during the 1930s was doomed to fail. Even a few miles outside of a provincial capital it proved almost impossible for the state to assert its control over the vast networks of private schools and associations that had grown up since the end of the Boxer Uprising. Such an undertaking was only possible when the local political and military leadership was strongly committed to the project. But in Foshan it was precisely these officials who instead decided to rebrand a preexisting network that they already depended on and exercised some control over. Rather than the Guoshu banner being one that united a common (and progressive) national culture, in Foshan it was a tool for local martial artists to express an entirely different (and more conservative) vision of how modern China should function.
Conclusion
One lesson to be drawn from this is that historians must approach the written sources (policy statements, manuals, yearly reports, newspaper articles, etc…) generated by reformist groups with a fair degree of caution. This material is relatively easily accessible to us today as one aspect of the Republic era modernizing agenda was to establish a robust written record, thereby combating the popular perception that the martial arts were practiced only by rustic illiterates. Yet the substantive claims made by these organizations about the state of the Chinese martial arts were often deeply misleading.
In their public statement during the 1920s and 1930s they constantly claimed that the Chinese martial arts were dying, that they had become irrelevant, corrupted or ignored. They proposed various schemes for the resurrection of these arts through a process of purification, modernization and state sponsorship. The irony was that the local martial arts were not dying, certainly not in Guangdong, and probably not in most other areas of the country. New commercial schools and organizations were growing at a dizzying rate, so much so that outside regulatory efforts found it essentially impossible to control the local supply of martial arts instructors. While there were starts and stops, the interwar years saw a steady rise in interest in the martial arts.
Newspapers in Guangzhou, Foshan and Hong Kong all began to carry serialized novels glorifying local martial artists from the recent past. New radio programs, and later early films, hyped martial strength. Urban individuals became involved in these traditions in record numbers. The simple reality is that the Chinese martial arts were more popular, and practiced by a wider range of groups, in the 1920s and 1930s than ever before. The Guoshu movement was never going to “save” the Chinese martial arts as, in reality, these arts and the social structures that supported them, were doing quite well on their own. Rather, the various reform movements of the 1920s and 1930s are better understood as attempts to get out in front of trends that were already highly developed and threatening to pass by a relatively small group of elite activists and their backers in the government.
The situation in Foshan is instructive as it suggests two issues which probably slowed the substantive spread of the Guoshu movement. While there was an immense demand for martial arts training in this period, local martial artists expressed little enthusiasm for the centralized reforms, training regimes and tournament structures that a handfull of national level reformers sought to promote. Instead martial arts groups continued to focus on local issues, identities, power structures and conflicts.
Secondly, with the help of local government officials, the Guoshu name and framework could be appropriated to promote exactly the sorts of parochial, traditional and sectarian martial arts practices that the national reform movement was actively preaching against. Rather than weakening these groups, the expansion of the Guoshu program actually provided them with a platform from which to promote their own, radically different, vision of what “New China” should be. While Foshan’s Zhongyi Martial Arts Athletic Association has been all but forgotten by modern Hung Gar and Wing Chun practitioners, this short discussion suggests that it still has much to teach students of martial arts studies.
How did Taijiquan, now ubiquitous, establish itself in Southern China? What about the other northern Shaolin systems? I would think that the lion’s share of the credit must go to the Jingwu Association which introduced and popularized several systems throughout the 1920s. Still, the institutional structure of the modernist Jingwu Association tended to absorb sets from various arts rather than presenting them as distinct, self-contained, lineages. The other actor, frequently noted in this equation, is the Guoshu (National Arts) movement.
Guangdong province established its own branch of this national organization relatively early on. I recently heard the assertion that all of the “traditional” practices of southern China could be classified into three categories. First, one had the local Cantonese arts (Hung Gar, Choy Li Fut, etc..), next there were the Hakka styles (White Eyebrow, Dragon) and finally there are the northern arts (Taijiquan, Northern Shaolin). The argument went that it was ultimately the Central Guoshu Association, and their program to promote national unity through martial arts training, that should receive the credit for disseminating these styles to the south.
This particular assertion was made much too quickly, and the author was speedily on to other topics. Still, I think it would be worth our time to go back and parse these events more carefully. Guoshu, as both a term, idea and a historical movement, seems to be enjoying a mini-renaissance at the moment. Speculation as to why this is, and what it ultimately suggests about contemporary Chinese martial arts culture, will need to wait for a separate blog post. Yet, at least in the case of Southern China, it is interesting to note that many of the organization’s greatest contributions to martial culture are rooted in its institutional failures, rather than success. The following meditation on these questions is based largely on research conducted for my co-authored volume (with Jon Nielson) on the social history of the Southern Chinese martial arts. If you are interested in chasing down a more complete account of Guoshu in the Pearl River Delta (or my footnotes) take a look at chapter three.
In a certain sense the prior assertion by the unnamed author is absolutely correct. Even if the Jingwu Association whetted the public’s appetite, the Guoshu movement was directly responsible for the export of many important styles and lineages to the south. Still, if we succumb to a type of easy romanticism about this process, we risk misunderstanding both the nature of the Southern Chinese martial culture and the severity of the challenge that it posed to a program consciously designed to displace regional traditions with a more universal set of practices and identities. Yes, national reformers were able to use the martial arts to shape debates about what the “New China” should be. Yet local society could also turn to these practices in launching their own broadsides against outside forces.
A group photo of organizers and athletes at the 1928 National Guoshu Examination.
A Governor Goes North
The first common misconception that casual readers might have is that the Guoshu organization was truly national in scope. Andrew Morris has noted that the movement’s pretensions to universality and sectoral dominance never materialized in real life. Indeed, it would have been practically impossible for any organization to fully integrate itself into Chinese life, in both the city and the countryside, in only a few years during the turbulent 1930s. China was just too large and complex for this to happen. Further, many of the specific challenges that Guoshu faced stemmed from the group’s unapologetically partisan nature.
Unlike the Jingwu Association, the Central Guoshu Institute was not dedicated to vague notions of Chinese nationalism. Its goals were much more statist in orientation. While encouraging patriotism was important, the group received enthusiastic government backing as it also sought to indoctrinate its practitioners with loyalty to the KMT, and to Chiang Kai-shek in particular. This became an issue as, his victory in the Northern Campaign notwithstanding, not all of the KMT’s notoriously independent cliques and generals were equally enthusiastic about aligning themselves with Chiang and his program. As such, many regions of China actually resisted the spread of the Guoshu. Or, to be more precise, while they may have enthusiastically embraced the name Guoshu, and certain philosophical notions about national strengthening through the reform of the martial arts, they were not about to turn local “paramilitary” assets over to Chiang and his allies.
Morris asks us to consider the case of Shanxi Province in the 1930s. Long a stronghold of traditional boxing, readers may be surprised to learn that it had no official Guoshu chapter. This fact may not at first be evident. The province actually boasted over 500 registered martial arts societies in the 1930s, and many of them using the term Guoshu in their names (evidence of the fashionable nature of the word). Yet the entire area was administered by the independent warlord Yan Xishan who carefully avoided any contact with a program that was (quite correctly) perceived as a tool of Chaing Kai-shek’s close backers.
A very similar pattern could be seen in Fujian and Guangdong. Both provinces were formally administered by the KMT, yet in the post-1927 era their leadership was sometimes protective of their local autonomy. This institutional weakness within the KMT impeded the expansive vision of the Guoshu Institute.
That is not to say that the new movement didn’t have important allies. In October of 1928, General Li Jinshen (governor of Guangdong and an important military figure at the time) visited the first national martial arts examination hosted by the newly organized Central Guoshu Institute in Nanjing. He was so impressed with what he saw that he decided to commit substantial resources to promoting the Guoshu program in Guangxi and Guangdong. He invited Wan Lai Sheng (a Six Harmonies and Shaolin Master) and Li Xian Wu (Taijiquan and a native of Guangdong), to return with him to Guangzhou.
Li quickly drew up plans that were approved by the local government. Wan Lai Sheng was formally appointed the head of the new provincial organization by General Li’s Eighth Army. Given the ambitious nature of Li’s plans, Wan then went about recruiting a number of high-profile instructors. These included Fu Zhensong, Li Xian Wu, Wan Laimin and Gu Ru Zhang (who many readers will already be familiar with). Gu would go on to become the central figure in the promotion of Bak Shaolin (Northern Shaolin) in Guangdong province. These instructors, and Wan, were known in the press as the “The Five Southbound Tigers.”
Li’s Lianguang Guoshu Institute first opened its doors in March of 1929, hosting three sets of two-hour classes a day. The organization had an initial enrollment of 140 students, which quickly increased to close to 500. Still, a closer examination revealed something odd. Rather than filling its ranks with local martial artists looking to get on board with the new national program, almost all of these students were low ranking civil service personal. Still, there was enough “official” demand to both expand the class structure and to begin to offer off-campus instruction at any business or office which could meet the financial requirements and guarantee at least 20 students. Chinese sources note that, once again, it was government offices that dominated the off-campus study program.
Despite these initial struggles to penetrate the local martial arts sub-culture, or perhaps because of them, Governor Li pressed ahead with an ambitious agenda for the Lianguang Guoshu Institute. This was aided through the efforts of the local government. First, an ordinance was passed mandating registration and licensing of all martial arts organizations or schools in the province. Second, the creation of any new martial arts school or organization not administered by the institute’s (mostly Northern) staff was banned. Finally, money was set aside for the creation of a regional publication dedicated to advancing the nationalist and pro-KMT “Guoshu philosophy.”
Backed by the full might of the Eighth Army, the provincial government, and an enthusiastic governor, such a set of reforms could have had stifled Southern China’s vibrant martial culture. Indeed, that seems to have been precisely the goal of their effort. General Li Jishen was quite sincere in his desire to bring the local martial arts community to heel, effectively transforming it into a tool to be exploited by the state. While it remains unclear to me whether these sorts of orders could have been enforced in the countryside, their impact on urban Choy Li Fut or Hung Gar schools would have been disastrous. Deep pools of local knowledge and experience were about to be sacrificed on the altars of “national unity.”
It is interesting to speculate on whether, and how successfully, the local martial arts sector would have resisted these efforts. Fortunately, historians have no answer to that question as Li’s ambitious plans fell apart almost immediately. Indeed, the great weakness of Guoshu’s rapid expansion was that its success depended not so much on popular demand as the political calculations of often unpredictable leaders.
In May of 1929, General Li Jishen took the spectacular step of resigning as governor and traveling to Nanjing with the intention of mediating a truce between Chiang Kai-shek and the “New Guangxi Clique.” This was, to say the least, a serious strategic miscalculation. Negotiations went badly and Chiang (quite predictably) was furious. He had General Li arrested and held until his eventual release in 1931, after which he drifted towards the Communist Party. This left Guangdong in need of a new governor. They received one in the form of Chen Jitang, who is still remembered for his social reforms (the creation of a very basic social safety net) and building programs (he paved the streets of Guangzhou).
One of Chen’s first acts upon taking office was to disband the Guoshu Institute. It is likely that Chen saw this organization as a potential political threat. After all, he did not create it, and many of the individuals within it were loyal to his predecessor. It is also likely that Chen did not want to be that closely associated with a group that was so much under of the influence of Chiang’s most ardent supporters. Whatever the actual reason, budget concerns were cited as the precipitating factor. With a total budget of 4,500 Yuan a month, the Institute was a notable undertaking. But that figure hardly seems outrageous given Li’s expansive vision for the organization. All told the Lianguang Guoshu Institute closed its doors after only two months, and without making any progress towards its ambitious goals.
That is where its story ends. The initial attempts to establish Guoshu in Guangzhou immediately fell victim to internal politics within the KMT. In retrospect it is almost too predictable.
All of which is great, because what happened next had an actual shaping effect on the development of Southern martial culture. The surprising collapse of the Lianguang Institute left a number of extremely talented Northern martial arts exponents unemployed (and more or less stranded) in Guangzhou. This seeming setback created new opportunities that spread the Northern arts more effectively than anything that Li had envisioned. After all, most of the instruction that had been provided in these initial months was directed at a relatively small group of government employees. Chen’s forced dissolution of the organization allowed its instructors to enter into a much broader (and truly competitive) marketplace for martial arts instruction. It was within these smaller commercial schools that arts such as Bak Siu Lam and Taijiquan really took off and came to be accepted by the general public.
Following the breakup of the Guoshu Institute, Li Xian Wu was hired by the Guangdong branch of the Jingwu Assocation as its new director of academic affairs. He later published a well-known guide to taijiquan. Gu Ru Zhang proved to be among the most influential of the remaining staff. Attempting to capitalize on the work that was already accomplished, he sought to create the Guangzhou Guoshu Institute (formally established in June of 1929). Gu was selected as its president, Wang Shaozhou was named its vice president and Re Shen Ku, Li Jing Chun and Yang Ting Xia (the wife of Wang), were all hired as instructors.
This new, smaller, organization enjoyed a measure of official backing and was housed in the National Athletic Association building on Hui Fu East Road in Guangzhou. That said, the new institute never subscribed to the grandiose policy objectives of its predecessors. Rather than regulating Southern China’s martial arts sector, it essentially entered the economic marketplace as one school among many.
And as fate would have it, Gu’s new efforts found some real success. In 1936 the Guangdong Province Athletic Association sponsored a martial arts exhibition at the Guangzhou Public Stadium. Gu’s Guangzhou Guoshu Institute performed for an enthusiastic crowd and received an award from the local government. Still, like most of the other local martial arts organizations it was forced to shut its doors in 1938 during the Japanese occupation. Yet it was due to the more private efforts of Gu and his fellow instructors, rather than the grandiose machinations of General Li, that the Northern arts established long lasting schools and lineages in Southern China. They did so by entering the marketplace and providing a good that consumers actually wanted.
An image of a now famous postcard that Gu Ruzhang sent to his students.
Martial Arts and the Weakness of “Established Churches”
It would be impossible to tell the story of China’s twentieth century martial arts without carefully reviewing the political opportunities, alliances and entanglements that presented themselves in each era. Still, as we review this material it quickly becomes evident that political sponsorship is a double-edged sword. More than one martial arts organization was destroyed by the capricious winds of change blowing through China’s political history. Political alliances proved to be a pathway to rapid growth, but also rapid obsolesce.
Leaders have repeatedly sought to use the martial arts as one element of larger campaigns to shape society more to their liking. In the short-run this creates funding and promotional opportunities. But it also creates martial arts institutions that are more responsive to the demands of political elites than the public who must actually attend classes and pay their sifu’s rent. Such a bargain is rarely good for the martial arts in the long-run as it prevents them from establishing the type of relationship with consumers that is necessary to survive periods of rapid social change.
The story of the Lianguang Guoshu Institute offers a critical insight into the strengths and weaknesses of “established” martial arts (to borrow a term of religious studies.) As a government backed institution, the only students it seemed capable of recruiting were individuals already dependent on the governor for their paychecks. Yet when its instructors were released into the competitive marketplace, they created popular schools and practices that quickly spread the northern styles across southern China. That has had a lasting impact on Guangdong’s martial culture.
Its official, holiday madness is upon us. Still, I wanted to comment on some of the more interesting stories that have been floating around. For new readers, this is a semi-regular feature here at Kung Fu Tea in which we review media stories that mention or affect the traditional fighting arts. In addition to discussing important events, this column also considers how the Asian hand combat systems are portrayed in the mainstream media.
While we try to summarize the major stories over the last month, there is always a chance that we may have missed something. If you are aware of an important news event relating to the TCMA, drop a link in the comments section below. If you know of a developing story that should be covered in the future feel free to send me an email.
Its been way too long since our last update so let’s get to the news!
Keeping kung fu relevant. Source: South China Morning Post.
English language tabloids continue to discover the newly “rediscovered” tradition of Chinese “bull fighting.” This is basically the latest attempt to parlay martial arts exhibitions into a local tourist attraction.
It seems that every year has that one story that just won’t die. If you had asked me at the beginning of the year whether that would be the “ancient art” of kung fu bull fighting, I would blinked in disbelief and asked if you were thinking of Mas Oyama. But here we are!
Calling this an art, or somehow more “real” than Spanish bull fighting, seems like a stretch. But the sudden appearance of this practice (unknown to the international press just last year), suggests that it would make a great case study on the “invention of tradition” in the Chinese martial arts. Or perhaps you could use it to delve into the evolving construction of masculinity within the martial arts. Calling all graduate students…
Shalini Singh’s skill with a broadsword earned her a gold medal last month at the Pan American Wushu Championships in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The San Jose teen is an eighth-grader at Stratford School Raynor in Sunnyvale.
Shalini Singh’s skill with a broadsword earned her a gold medal last month at the Pan American Wushu Championships in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The San Jose teen is an eighth-grader at Stratford School Raynor in Sunnyvale. (Photo courtesy of the Singh family)
She was 7 years old when started at Wushu Central on Coleman Avenue in San Jose and loved it immediately. In 2016, after four years of intense study, she earned a first-degree black belt. Now, she has been practicing Wushu for almost seven years, and currently trains about 18-20 hours per week at Elite Kung Fu Academy in Fremont.
“I really like the focus and discipline that Wushu has instilled in me,” Shalini said. “Wushu has taught me that failures are an opportunity to learn and improve yourself. I used to lose in all of my initial tournaments, and at first, it made me upset and dejected. But the advice of my coaches helped me identify where I was weak, and helped me improve my performance.”
For whatever reason, quite a few authors decided to delve into the history (or supposed history) of the Asian martial arts over the last month. Without a doubt the most sensational of these pieces was provided by the Fox Sports network. Its offering was modestly titled “4 Asian Martial Arts that teach you to end the fight with one strike.” This one is too funny (by which I mean bad) not to delve into.
Martial arts have become a means to deliver discipline, commitment and fitness into the practitioner’s life in the modern day scenario. Yes, one does learn how to defend oneself effectively also but they have largely turned into sport. But as recently as in the first half of the 20th century – the whole focus of martial arts was different. It wasn’t just used to imbue good values and equip someone for self-defence, but in those war-torn times, martial arts was an active engagement strategy against the enemy.
In that time, the focus of learning martial arts was to grievously maim or even kill your enemy in the battlefield.
In case you were wondering what these four deadly venoms are, we begin with Dim Mak (which is apparently now a single martial art invented by Bodhidharma, rather than a set of techniques), Silat (enough said), Ikken Hissatsu (which, judging by the provided video, is basically point karate highlight reel), and Varna Kali. All in all, the article is a font of joyful misunderstanding and myth-making. But in an era when everyone seems intent on tearing down the utility of the traditional martial arts, it stuck me as almost quaint. As I read it I couldn’t helping thinking, “So was this what 1968 felt like?”
The Abbot of the Shaolin Temple chimed in on Xu Xiaodong, the Chinese MMA fighter who has gained notoriety through his challenge matches with various traditional “masters.” Apparently Shi has his back.
“He’s a good guy, even though he’s a totally amateur MMA fighter,” said Shi, adding that “a hundred people in Henan province alone” could defeat Xu.
But Shi concluded: “Xu is doing the right thing by fighting fake kung fu.”
Ok, maybe that wasn’t a ringing endorsement. Still, I didn’t expect that level of engagement with Xu’s quest. Given his reputation with the Wushu establishment (not to mention the Chinese government) there doesn’t seem to be a lot of political upside for abbot Shi Yong Xinin here.
If you’ve ever been to the UFC Performance Institute in Las Vegas, chances are you’ve been wowed by the facility. Well, there is a new PI being constructed in Shanghai that will be three times the size of the one in Sin City.
‘Cultural Exchange Will Strengthen Bonds Between China & Africa.’ So proclaims a “Kung Fu Diplomacy” article in the Liberian Observer. This one discusses the close cooperation between local diplomatic staff and branches of the (ostensibly academic) Confucius Institute in using traditional Chinese culture to further the state’s public diplomacy objectives.
The Embassy of the People’s Republic of China near Monrovia in collaboration with the Confucius Institute at the University of Liberia (UL) on Saturday, November 10, hosted the traditional Chinese Arts performance, with some of the main performers coming from the Hunan University of Chinese Medicine in China.
The event, which was hosted at the Monrovia City Hall, was intended to strengthen China-Liberia relationship, highlighting culture exchanges between the two countries. Some of the performances comprised a series of China’s traditional sport-oriented health maintenance practices, including Martial Arts, Tai Chi, Qigong (a popular Chinese song) about unity, and some Chinese folk dances.
There have been a couple of interesting photo essays in the last couple of weeks. The first follows the career of Huo Jinghong, a 5th generation descendent of Huo Yunjia and an inheritor of his system. That article hits all of the notes that one might expect.
Li Zhujun makes a decorative sword at his studio in Tiejiangzhuang Village of Xingtang County, Shijiazhuang, north China’s Hebei Province, Nov. 14, 2018. For centuries, Tiejiangzhuang Village has been famed for its skillful blacksmiths and prosperous steel making industry. Li Zhujun is one of the village’s top steel makers. Based on the skills inherited from his father, Li gained an expertise in the steel-making technique “refined pattern welding”, which adds complicated patterns to the swords and knives during forging. The technique has been listed as an intangible cultural heritage by the city of Shijiazhuang. In recent years, the 47-year-old blacksmith has devoted himself to the renewal of this technique. His decorative swords, thus forged with more alternative patterns, show the enhanced aesthetics and exquisite product quality. (Xinhua/Chen Qibao)
Filipinos’ fascination for martial arts comes alive as more than 200 martial arts experts across the globe converge in Manila on Nov. 24 to celebrate the 80th founding anniversary of the Kong Han Athletic Club, the country’s premier martial arts school.
Abbot Chang Ding of Quanzhou City’s Shaolin Temple, and some 30 monks and members of the International South Shaolin Wuzuquan Federation, will lead participants on the occasion.
Did you hear about Marvel’s ambitious new superhero film project featuring Shang-Chi, a son of Fu Manchu. As you might have guessed, that last plot point is not going over well in China (where Marvel films are decently popular). Why? Fu Manchu, the villain of many ‘yellow peril’ novels is still widely remembered as an offensive symbol of Western anti-Chinese discrimination.
Anyone out there interested in martial arts and politics? If so, Malaysian Silat has been in the news quite a bit over the last few weeks. This article, titled “Silat alliance submits memo on ICERD, Malay issues at Istana Negara,” is a good place to get your orientation.
KUALA LUMPUR: Members of a silat coalition, known as Gabungan Silat Pertahan Perlembagaan, submitted a memorandum to the Yang Di-Pertuan Agong today, expressing their protest over International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (ICERD) and other issues….Apart from the ICERD issue, Shahruddin said the note also highlighted the group’s other demands which included calling for the protection and upholding of Malay rights, Federal Constitution and the royal institution.
Typically I structure the MAS section of these news-updates around conference announcements and book updates. This time we are going to look at some new articles and papers instead. The first is a piece that I really enjoyed by Colin P. McGuire. You have all heard the song. Now its time to delve into what it really tells us about Cantonese martial culture!
Wong Fei-hung was a Cantonese martial arts master from southernChina who became associated with a melody called ‘General’s Ode’. Since the 1950s, over 100 Hong Kong movies and television showshave forged the link by using this melody as Master Wong’s theme.During fieldwork in a Chinese Canadian kung fu club, I observed several consultants claiming this piece as a Cantonese nationalanthem—a hymn for a nation without a sovereign state. Virtualethnography conducted online showed that this opinion is heldmore widely, but that the piece also inspires broader Chinesenationalist sentiment. My analysis of speech-tone relationships tomelodic contour in Cantonese and Mandarin versions of the song,however, has revealed a tight integration with the former that thelatter lacked. By sharpening Anderson’s concept of unisonance, I explore how this song has become an unofficial transnationalanthem for Cantonese people, arguing that Master Wong’s themeauralises an abstract sense of imagined community.
I chose the next paper as a representative of the rapidly growing literature on the South East Asian martial arts. And it seemed to offset some of the previous discussion of Silat.
The paper introduces Silat Tua, a traditional Malay martial art, and its relationship to the tropics of the Malaysian Peninsula and Singapore through the imagery work of the four Elements: Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind. In a world of increasing disconnect between Humans and Nature, the Silat Tua practice is a traditional martial art for bringing harmony and healing, as well as an understanding of how the building blocks of Nature can harmonise, complement and resonate with the natural resources of the human mind, body and spirit. Through recounting the legend of the art’s origin, the first proponent of Silat Tua is shown to have gained inspiration and lessons from the inhabited environment. Examples of how a Silat exponent may explore and come to understand the Elements are discussed before venturing into the practical application of the Elements in cultivating mindfulness and influencing behaviour. The physical environment thus, is not only a source of inspiration for movement but indeed an impetus for leading a harmonious and virtuous life. The paper concludes with the connection and implications of the Elements training in Singapore and its potential in navigating oneself through the constant changes inevitable in life.
I have not yet had a chance to read the following paper by George Jennings. But it looks fascinating and brings the conversation around to the martial practices of Latin America (a topic that deserves more discussion).
There are numerous ways to theorise about elements of civilisations and societies known as ‘body’, ‘movement’, or ‘physical’ cultures. Inspired by the late Henning Eichberg’s notions of multiple and continually shifting body cultures, this article explores his constant comparative (trialectic)approach via the Mexican martial art, exercise, and human development philosophy—
Xilam. Situating Xilam within its historical and political context and within a triad of Mesoamerican, native, and modern martial arts, combat sports, and other physical cultures, I map this complexity through Eichberg’s triadic model of achievement, fitness, and experience sports. I then focus my analysis on the aspects of movement in space as seen in my ethnographic fieldwork in one branch of the Xilam school. Using a bare studio as the setting and my body as principle instrument, I provide an impressionist portrait of what it is like to train in Xilam within a communal dance hall (space) and typical class session of two hours (time) and to form and express warrior identity from it. This articledisplays the techniques; gestures and bodily symbols that encapsulate the essence of the Xilam bodyculture, calling for a way to theorise from not just from and on the body but also across body cultures.
Finally, Paul Bowman has circulated a draft of this paper for comment and discussion. Looks fascinating!
this paper seeks to broach the complex relations of pleasure and violence in martial arts, in relation to their practice, performance and forms of consumption. It does so first by setting out the broad contours of the discursive status of both violence and pleasure in current debates about martial arts, before going on to deconstruct the implications of two short media texts: a controversial 2006 French Connection TV advert known as ‘Fashion versus Style’, and an uncontroversial music video for the 2015 song ‘Be Your Shadow’ by The Wombats.
An assortment of Chinese teas. Source: Wikimedia.
Kung Fu Tea on Facebook
A lot has happened on the Kung Fu Tea Facebook group over the last month. We looked at antique weapons, reviewed some Republic era TCMA manuals, and learned how to defend ourselves with nothing but a bicycle! (Yeah, apparently that was actually a thing in 1900). Joining the Facebook group is also a great way of keeping up with everything that is happening here at Kung Fu Tea.
Horse races are strongholds of pageantry and tradition, but when it comes to medieval texture, few can compare with the Palio di Siena. Oddly, any footage of the event reminds me of a critical issue within martial arts studies. I suppose that is an occupational hazard. Pretty much anything can remind me of some aspect of the martial arts.
Still, a few words on the Palio may be in order before setting out to explore what is “traditional” in current martial practice, and what this term should denote in academic writing. Hopefully exploring one of Europe’s oldest (and probably most dangerous) horse races will help us to distinguish between the notion of “tradition” as a rhetorical posture within the modern discourse on the martial arts, and the critical ways in which pre-modern martial arts activities diverge from their modern counterparts. Even if the physical movements and uniforms are indistinguishable from what was seen in the past, the actual activity that individuals are engaged in are always a response to contemporary events and conditions.
If one types “Palio” in a YouTube search bar, you will find numerous clips of horses and jockeys racing at breakneck speeds through Siena’s wonderful architecture, cheered on by an enthusiastic crowd. If you watch a little longer a few oddities will begin to appear. To begin with, traditional Italian architecture was never really designed with horse racing in mind. Indeed, it was probably more interested in slowing down mounted charges than facilitating them. It is not uncommon for horses to go down or riders to be unseated. That tendency is multiplied by the fact that the jockeys race bareback.
Even more interesting is the crowd itself, packed into every space surrounding the designated race course. The term “throng” is thrown around rather loosely, but no other word comes to mind as you survey the pulsing sea of humanity. Yes, tourists come to see the race. But the only way to achieve that density would be if a sizable proportion of the local neighborhoods showed up as well. Which of course thy do.
The Palio di Siena is much more than a horserace to the 17 wards that make up the city. It is a time of rivalry in which each neighborhood conspires to host banquets, celebrations, religious processions and demonstrations in an attempt to impress and outdo their neighbors. The race itself (run only by horses representing 10 of these wards, selected by lot) is the climax of a cycle of preparation that spans much of the year. Bands must be maintained, flag throwers trained, and one suspects that quite a bit of expense goes into maintaining Siena’s rather large population of urban race horses. In rare instances a special race is even commissioned to celebrate important city events or to mark critical anniversaries.
Each race is a festival, and the best party in town. It also appears that for many members of the local neighborhoods, the party is a requirement. One simply does not root for a horse from a neighboring ward simply because it has a better chance of winning. Everyone knows which team they are on, because it was the team that they were born into. While tourists watch the race, they do not, and cannot, experience it in the same way as those whose lives are interwoven with it. For them the party seems mandatory.
A depiction of kicking and unarmed fighting traditions in the traditional Italian martial arts.
The Italian Martial Arts Renaissance
While spectacular, the Palio di Siena is not unique. Italy’s famously independent cities and regions have generated countless festivals. Many of them have a distinctly martial character. The history of the Palio is fairly well known. It seems that seasonal boxing and jousting tournaments gave way to bull fighting and horse-racing at the end of the medieval period. The modern Palio (reorganized and consolidated in an attempt to reduce accidental injuries) dates to the early 1700s. Many of these Italian contests pit neighborhoods against each other. Sometimes the contests are good natured. In other instances, things look more like organized brawling held under the guise of some sort of sporting contest. But no matter the specific object of the festival, there are always parties.
It was actually the parties that caught my attention. Recently I have had the good fortune to observe small pieces of what might be called the modern Italian martial arts renaissance. Increasingly I am finding Italian martial artists in all sorts of unexpected places. Traditional Italian martial arts, including various styles of knife and stick fighting, have established footholds in North America and countries like Germany, France and Russia.
While something like Sicilian knife fighting is among the most visible of the Italian martial arts, this material has not traveled alone. Italian systems of boxing and wrestling are also being re-popularized. And the explosion of interest in HEMA has provided a ready-made outlet for many schools of Italian historical fencing. Indeed, a colleague in the Bay Area (and specialist in Italian stick fighting) recently told me that in his view the “traditional” Italian martial arts are united by a shared inheritance of embodied knowledge preserved within, and then borrowed from, these older fencing practices.
This view, while historically interesting, also reminds us of something else. There is a lot going on in the world of the Italian martial arts that does not fit within the self-identified realm of “tradition.” Italy has several interesting boxing traditions firmly rooted in the 20thcentury. Judo, BJJ and MMA are all popular pursuits. In fact, Ludosport, one of the largest lightsaber combat schools, was founded in Milan in the 2000s. It has since established branches all over Europe and North America. While I wonder whether some local stick fighting techniques made their way into the Ludosport curriculum, no one would think to call this a “traditional Italian martial art.”
That is where the puzzle begins to unfold. How do we know a “traditional” art when we see one? What specific practices, identities or expectations set these apart from their modern cousins?
In the 20thcentury “traditional Asian martial arts” declared their presence in a number of ways. They tended to introduce unique, nationally defined, training uniforms. Elaborate, usually invented, histories were taught to students as a way of defining their new identity as members of the schools and emphasizing a shared set of values. Movements were stylized in unique and aesthetically pleasing ways. New modes of personal address were introduced. Sometimes students were even expected to master a new language (whether Japanese, Korean or even Portuguese) if they wished to really “understand” their chosen martial practice. This differs from the ethos of the modern combat sports (boxing, wrestling and MMA) which embrace contemporary society, rather than throwing up symbolic barriers.
In these specific respects Ludosport actually comes off as a very “traditional” martial art. It strictly maintains its own codes of dress, address and behavior. Indeed, it tends to be a rather closed community at least partially because of these strategies. One is also expected to learn at least of bit of Italian to take part in classes. Yet its engagement with Italian culture goes well beyond that. I recently had the opportunity to watch students in southern New York counting down drills, naming techniques and going through entire tournament matches without a word of English being spoken. At least within Ludosport, Italian has become the universal language of the lighsaber. One suspects that a degree of fluency and affinity for Italian culture would be a practical (if not formal) prerequisite for actually mastering this system.
I think that the love of a good party is probably also necessary to flourish within the Ludosport community. Its organizers have devoted substantial energy to creating a yearly cycle of tournaments, each with its own period of preparation, and each followed by a period of celebration. Indeed, one of the things that has been most surprising about this community is distances that individuals are willing to travel (and the economic resources they will spend), to participate in these gatherings. The parties almost feel mandatory, and they are clearly the sort of community strengthening exercise that Emile Durkheim would have delighted in.
This global export of Italian culture is not unique to Ludosport. I asked what sort of student was most likely to take up the traditional Italian martial arts (knife and stick) while interviewing another instructor who moved to the Bay Area some time ago. He noted that when he began to teach, he expected only limited interest from the local community. Given the extent to which these practices are tied directly to Italian culture he guessed that his students would mostly be Italian Americans looking to reconnect with their heritage. Instead he discovered a huge amount of interest and a student body that closely mirrored the demographics of the local universities. While Italian-Americans occasionally take an interest in Sicilian knife fighting, or the Shepard’s stick, most of his students have no direct connection to Italy and many are Asian Americans.
When asked why these sorts of students stayed, or what they got out of traditional stick fighting, my friend concluded, after a moment of thought, that it was probably the community. They loved learning the language. They loved the dinners and the parties. He noted, with some surprise, the number of American university students who are now taking time to travel to Italy specifically to study with other martial arts instructors there.
On a technical level Ludosport is engaged in a very different exercise than that of my friend in the Bay Area. He pursues the study of “traditional” arts while they are intent on developing a “hyper-real” one. He wields a stick or knife, while they opt for the lightsaber. He teaches a skill-based classes to local university students, while Ludosport (which also supports a skills based curriculum) seems more interested in organizing itself as an international athletic league.
Yet for all of their differences, both organizations strike me as playing a fundamentally similar role within the Italian martial arts renaissance. Each presents a set of skills embedded within a distinctly Italian cultural framework. This rich web of understanding is conveyed not just through embodied knowledge (which obviously constitutes the core of actual practice), but also through the promotion of media, social networks, language acquisition, travel and an emphasis on the intensive socialization of new students. What sorts of models exist for understanding this behavior (or in the case of Ludosport, creating it from the ground up)? One suspects that examining Italy’s long history of neighborhood festivals (often structured around quasi-military contests) might be a good place to start.
A less traditional Italian martial art.
The Mandatory Party?
Still, the more we look at festivals like Palio di Siena, the more paradoxes appear. Can a raging, multi-week, period of intensive community preparation, practice and partying really be made mandatory? What sort of social sanctions could convince people who don’t like the traffic (or who find the injuries to horses and riders disturbing) not to take that long-awaited vacation to Canada? Or on a more philosophical level, if the community mandates that you go out and have fun, isn’t that really a type of work? Sure, there may be loud music and lots of alcohol, but if one is required to be there, aren’t you really performing a civic or organizational duty?
This was one of several important questions that the anthropologist Victor Turner asked in his 1974 essay “Liminal to Liminoid, in Play, Flow and Ritual: As Essay in Comparative Symbology.” His answer is particularly important for understanding the gradations of “tradition” that we might find in the martial arts. Yet on an even more basic level, he attempts to provide insights about the nature of the modern world, and the ways that industrialized and post-industrial societies tend to reposition “play” as “leisure” and “work” as “labor.”
The brief version of Turner’s answer would likely be that the existence of a “mandatory party” is possible in certain times and places, but not in our current situation. The advent of industrialization brought a fundamental transformation to how we understand concepts like “leisure” and “free time.” As such, when we see something that resembles, or postures, as a mandatory party, its important to consider what social work it is attempting to accomplish within a modern social context. What set of personal or psychological needs are being fulfilled by something that is, in reality, almost certainly a voluntary consumption decision?
Turner begins by observing that in truly traditional communities, characterized by extensive face to face interactions, the line between transformative ritual (whether seasonal in nature or a rite of passage) and the world of normal daily work was often not what we would think. Agricultural or physical labor was necessary to prepare material for religious sacrifices which would then ensure the productivity of one’s work in the coming year. An individual ritual action might be hedged about with symbolic cultural markers, demarcating it as “sacred space.” Yet the cycles of the calendar itself tended to unite things into a single whole. It dictated when work would happen, when times would be lean, and when festivals could be celebrated. Regulating the success of this system (thus ensuring the survival of the group) monopolized the resources of the community.
It is not a surprise, then, to read about entire communities coming out to cooperatively plant in the spring or gather crops later in the year. That sort of work was an economic and social necessity. Yet Turner went on to note that the sorts of feasts and festivals that occurred in these communities were also mandatory and a type of social work, rather than being an optional event or an example of modern “leisure.” Just as one had a responsibility to work in the community fields, or defend the community’s boundaries in its militia, one also had a responsibility to take part in the festivals and rituals that ensured fecundity, or attempted to ward off disease or natural disaster.
Certainly, these times were marked with celebration and creative play. Yet they were also instances of very intense social work. The notion of true leisure (meaning a realm of voluntary activity chosen by the individual and financed by the fruits of their personal labor) could only come into existence once economic markets had been developed in land and labor, a process that Karl Polanyi called “The Great Transformation.” Turner had much to say about this distinction, but perhaps we can summarize simply by noting that even if a given ritual might be preserved across this cultural barrier, its nature and meaning would be utterly transformed. To call on a seasonal example, wassailing in 16thcentury England was quite different, and implied a very different set of social structures and responsibilities, then singing Christmas carols today. The latter is strictly a voluntary (and modern) activity. The former was very much a “mandatory party” which wealthy landowners could not easily opt out of.
I think that one can see all of this illustrated in our modern confusion over the definition of Chinese martial culture. Did these practices originate in the changing social conditions (urbanization) of the Song dynasty, the coastal military crisis of the Ming, or ritual attempts to control disease, flood and famine in the Qing? The answer, of course, is “yes.” Both practice and performance have been deeply implicated within the development of the Chinese martial arts. The 16thcentury piracy crisis necessitated the reform of martial training to counter a new threat. Yet the four horsemen of the apocalypse always ride together. Famine and disease do not exist separately from military conflict. They are closely associated with it. Wars lead to hunger, and hunger leads to social violence.
This relationship was clearly understood by Chinese scholars, community leaders and military officers, all of whom had ample opportunities to study the subject in great detail. Thus martial rituals (lion and dragon dancing, several types of temple processions, the staging of community operas) carried out to address these more existential threats cannot ever be fully separated from the practical business of “real” martial arts training. Our constant attempts to do so, to fracture the overall unity of martial culture, tells us much more about the ways that economic and social specialization shape our own culture than anything about what happened in pre-1911 China. In 1840 both training with the militia and celebrating the New Year with the lion dance company were examples of “kung fu” because both were types of social work that certain young men were expected to render to the larger community. At times there was a ludic aspect to this work, but again, the party was mandatory.
None of this is the case today. Indeed, the party itself seems to have largely vanished. While conducting interviews I often hear the old timers talk about the wonderful socialization that happened after training at Chinese martial arts schools during the 1970s and 1980s. They relate stories of the hours spent in restaurants, or the group expeditions to grindhouse theaters to watch kung fu films. It all sounds wonderful. But I have never actually seen anything like it within my own experience. Instead, it is always framed as something “we used to do.”
When I ask about the change inevitably I hear that people grew-up, had families and got too busy. I suspect that this also signals the dramatic loss of social capital within American society that Putnam and other social scientists have written about. Still, the very fact that one can make a choice about this, that the party can even go out of fashion, suggests that these sorts of activities are very different from their pre-modern forbearers. What had been social work, necessary to maintaining the community, came to be experienced as a type of leisure, one consumer good among many which individuals used to fill their free time. It was this prior transformation that allowed it to become too expensive or unfashionable to continue.
All of this should lead to a moment’s reflection on what we mean when using the term “traditional” to discuss the martial arts. I am not suggesting that anyone change their terminology, but we should be aware that two very different possibilities are always at play. Logically, “tradition” would seem to refer to the practices and social structures of the pre-modern era. It was at this time that one might find a truly “mandatory party,” or martial arts practice understood as a necessary aspect of community service. Yet that is almost never what practitioners or scholars actually mean when using the term today. Instead they are referring to a group of modern practices which emerged in the late 19thor 20thcentury, almost all of which attempt to convey an ethno-nationalist body of knowledge through a type of physical training defining itself in opposition to “modern” (read, universally available) sports. This is “tradition” as a label that is chosen within a very modern marketplace of ideas, rather than something that predates or rejects a modernist understanding of the world. While the label points back to an imagined past of “essentialist” and immutable national identities, such a usage can exist only within a contemporary context.
“Local Militia Shandong.” 1906-1912 by Fr. Michel de Maynard.
Conclusion
So why would some communities (either kung fu schools in the 1970s, or Italian martial arts today) attempt to replicate the tradition of the mandatory party? Again, rather than an actual return to the past, one suspects that this is a response to proximate concerns found within recent trends. Over the summer I had a chance to attend Ludosport’s first national tournament in the USA and was surprised by the number of athletes that they assembled. It must have been a sizable percentage of the organization’s entire American student body. One can only wonder at the economic costs of making something like that happen.
As the tournament went on the attraction became more evident. Certainly, the matches and workshops were interesting, but the party was fantastic. It was the primary means by which old friendships were reinforced and new relationships forged. It was there that the basic social values of the group were hashed out. Indeed, these social gatherings were so important they were not left to chance. Ample time for “spontaneous” socialization was actually built into the events schedule. Further, the organizer’s habit of repeatedly scheduling important business meetings for school owners and instructors as “break-out sessions” during the main parties meant that for the professional within the group, the “mandatory party” was not just a metaphor. You really did have to be there. That was actually rough on many of the more jetlagged attendees.
Creating a martial arts group that can impose these sorts of costs on its member is not easy in the current environment. The higher the barriers to entry, the lower one’s potential student base will be. Still, it is not hard to see the attraction in all of this. Social and economic changes within the American economy have, over the last few decades, hollowed out its once vibrant community and associational life. Individuals crave a sense of intense, authentic community, something that, in an increasingly chaotic world, you can build a life around.
Creating those sorts of institutions is no easy task. It is one that goes well beyond looking for a time to schedule a couple of weekday classes. Still, the recent success of the Italian martial arts (whether traditional or hyper-real) in North America suggests that there is an immense appetite for this more intensive community experience.
This also raises questions for students of martial arts studies. When you look at the “clan structure”, cyclic yearly calendar and “mandatory parties” of Ludosport, it is easy to be reminded of the pre-modern traditions of something like the Palio di Siena. Indeed, one suspects that these sorts of social institutions served as a model for the construction of this more modern organization. Yet if we forget that the world that structures these demands is actually quite different from the one that gave rise to an earlier generation of community traditions, that modern leisure is not the same thing as peasant’s play, we will misunderstand the social work that the martial arts perform today.
The latest (dire) global warming report produced by US government scientists is inspiring conversations everywhere. I overheard a particularly interesting discussion between two colleagues earlier this week which focused not so much on the technological or policy measures that would be necessary to deal with rapid climate change, but the sorts of social attitudes would be necessary to support those steps. They were discussing well-funded public relations campaigns, but I must confess that I have (empirically well grounded) doubts as to how effective these sorts of efforts can be. “Confirmation bias” suggests that people are most likely to accept messages that reinforce what they already believe, or what they have already experienced. Long lasting changes in attitude usually emerge from the ground up, and not as a slick advertising campaign. After all, not every advertisement for a product, candidate or social cause is quite as successful as its backers may have hoped.
This is one of the reasons why I am interested in popular culture. It allows one to begin to decipher some of the logic behind larger patterns of political change or stability. Rather than being an escape from the world of politics, I often think of it as the repository of shared attitudes and values which are the raw materials of tomorrow’s innovations. It literally defines the realm of what is imaginable. Whether that is a comforting thought is a different question.
The martial arts may, at first, seemed removed from large scale social or political concerns. Much of our research focuses on identity, embodied experience, history, or the impact of these practices on relatively small communities. All of this is important, but it does not exhaust the significance of the martial arts within modern society. I suspect that many of us study the micro-effects of the martial arts as we are martial arts practitioners ourselves. We are anecdotally aware of their transformative power, so it is only natural that we would want to explore and systematize these insights.
Nevertheless, there is a bigger picture. The social effects of the martial arts stretch far beyond the relatively small and ever shifting group of individuals who are actually training in them at a given point in time. Their representation in the media has a profound effect on how we imagine our world. I also suspect that the interaction between these arts and the political realm are likely to become increasingly significant.
That last proposition may seem far-fetched as we spar, roll or practice on any given night. To understand how we must first come to terms with the economic concept of the “externality.” Simply put, this notion helps to explain “market failures” when (from society’s point of view) too little or too much of a good is provided. While discussions that treat the martial arts as something that can be bought or sold tend to be socially frowned upon, the simple truth is that almost all of us encounter them as a commercial product within an economic marketplace. An externality exists when the individuals who buy and sell a good (that would be us) are not capable of capturing the full benefits (or negative implications) of their market transaction.
A quick illustration may be helpful. Psychologists have noted that moods tend to be “contagious” within a social network. If you are surrounded by individuals who are stressed and unhappy, you are more likely to feel the same way, all else being equal. But if one of your friends is in a particularly good mood, that is likely to have an impact on your mood as well. I suspect that many of my readers can already guess where I am going with this. Individuals who practice the martial arts (or who engage in any form of regular exercise) report increased levels of wellness (measured across a wide variety of dimensions) and lower stress levels. That is precisely why many of these students pay for school membership in the first place.
Yet the “contagious” aspects of mood and lifestyle choices suggest that friends and family members are also reaping some of the benefits of this consumption choice even if they have never taken a single martial arts class. Because their increase in well-being is invisible in a supply/demand, chart it is not taken into account when a teacher decides how many nights of instruction to offer, or a consumer decides how many hours a week to devote to training. The end result is the existence of an externality where, because the full benefits of some people’s martial arts practices are hard to measure, the “good” in question is under-provided.
This is a single, somewhat trivial, example. But the world of the martial arts and combat sports generates dozens of similar externalities’ touching on all sorts of cultural, social and political questions. These externalities are likely to be shaped by the social, market and political forces that regulate the expression of the martial arts in a given place, and as such they vary by country and time period. In some cases we may also find that martial arts practice (like the consumption of any good) has unexpected negative consequences and that they are being over-provided. For instance, one suspects the current culture of traveling long distances for short seminars which is so vital to the financial success of many martial arts schools is doing the planet no favors. That seems like something that is likely to change in the future.
Nor is any of this a particularly new idea, though, to the best of my knowledge, no one has yet to formalize these intuitions through the lens of micro-economics. China and Japan both subsidized, promoted and even mandated certain types of martial arts practice in the early 20thcentury, but not because there was a burning need to train middle school students in practical self-defense skills. Rather they realized that an entire complex of other values and “benefits” (fitness, discipline, patriotism, increased militarism) accompanied martial arts training. It was the secondary effects of Guoshu or Budo that drove their consumption. Whether any of this would really “work in the octagon” was not the primary consideration in the promotion of these programs.
Fortunately for us, the violent and unstable years of the 1930s are now in the past. But what about the future? How might the unintended, unpriced, consequences of martial arts practice help us to deal with some of the massive challenges facing modern society? When might some of these externalities take on negative consequences? And what sort of balance are we likely to see between grass roots efforts emerging out of popular culture on the one hand, and coordinated (possibly government backed) information campaigns on the other?
Obviously, such a topic is too big for a single blog post. It could well be the subject of an entire series of books. My goal in this essay is to lay out some unexpected macro-level ways in which the martial arts might help (or inhibit) our attempts to address largescale issues. The following post touches on global warming as a “hot” topic that has been in the news. Yet this basic method of analysis, one that focuses on the externalities of martial arts practice, could easily be applied to any number of social or political issues (some of which I may return to in the future.)
A typically minimalist Japanese dojo. Photograph by Jared Miracle.
Wabi-Sabi and a Warming Planet
While popular discussions tend to focus on the practical “reality” of the martial arts, or perhaps their history, I suspect that much of their true transformative value lies in the unique aesthetic vision that each art conveys. A certain amount of caution is necessary here as the exact contents of this vision varies from art to art. The cunning of Brazilian Capoeira practitioners can be seen and felt in their practice. It is one part of a set of social survival strategies that is discussed, debated and judged in physical movement. Yet the uniqueness of Brazilian society suggests that this cannot ultimately be reduced to the sorts of “cunning” that one might find in Irish stick fighting, or the “yin power” that is expressed in Chinese martial or ritual performance. Both “yin power” and “cunning” can be understood as aesthetic expressions of cultural meditations on the challenges of survival in often harsh environments. Yet each conveys a distinct set of nuances and insights.
Given the importance of the Japanese martial arts in kicking off the modern exploration of these fighting systems, perhaps we should not be surprised to discover that the concept of Wabi-Sabi (usually understood as values related simplicity, impermanence, asymmetry and austerity) has permeated further into the global consciousness that any of these other martial arts related visions. It is not hard to find evidence of the philosophical notions (focusing on the Buddhist insights that all things are impermanent, empty and vessels for suffering) that underpinned this aesthetic style within the Japanese martial arts. One can see it in the simplicity of the traditional judo gi, the austere etiquette of the dojo, and even the way that scrolls or artwork are presented in the school’s tokonoma.
Still, my first encounter with Wabi-Sabi was not mediated by the martial arts. As I teenager I was lucky enough to study with (and work for) Bill Valavanis, who runs the International Bonsai Arboretum in Rochester NY. It was primarily through the mediums of bonsai, traditional Japanese gardening and stone appreciation that I encountered a set of concepts which amounted to a profound meditation on the nature of existence at a formative time in my own life. Neither martial artists or Bonsai masters can deny the essential truth of existence. All things are impermanent, and all things are incomplete. Within such a philosophical framework it is easy to elevate frugality, simplicity and austerity as the key guiding values of human existence.
One suspects that a profound appreciation for Wab-Sabi arose just as much out of the observation of daily life in early-modern Japan as erudite Buddhist argument. In truth, Japanese life was often harsh, food was scarce, and the material conditions that most people lived under were spartan at best. Japanese houses were (and to a certain extent remain) unheated during the winter, and the hottest days of summer brought their own challenges. Yet students of Japanese history and culture are often amazed by the beautiful material culture that was woven out of these challenging conditions.
The modern West sits at a crossroads. Our social, economic and political systems have rested on the core principle that people should be able to consume as many material goods as they want. And if they cannot achieve this level of consumption now, they have a right to work towards it in the future. It seems unlikely that this situation can continue. Failure to politically address rising sea levels, increased severe weather and the future loss of prime agricultural land to drought would be economically and socially catastrophic. One might think of this worst-case scenario as global warming’s “hard landing.”
But even the best-case, most cooperative, scenarios will eventually require a massive adjustment to practically everyone’s lifestyle within the industrialized West. Short of a miraculous technological innovation that allows us to pull carbon from the atmosphere at will, huge changes in consumer behavior are likely in store. These will influence what we eat, how we travel and where we live. We are likely to see birthrates plummet across the developed world as raising children becomes more expensive. In the long run, cuts in consumer activity married to a dropping, aging, population, suggests that we could see a significant shrinking of major markets. That, in turn, suggests a massive reduction in the rates technological, medical and social change which we have come to expect.
Anyone who has spent enough time in the social sciences knows how difficult forecasting is. Economists love to make predictions. In my field (political science) we try to avoid it whenever possible. The challenges of modeling climate change are well known and much discussed. But they pale next to the sheer impossibility of predicting how people (at either the individual or national level) are likely to respond to this. And given that the scope of climate change (whether we can ensure a relatively “minor” rise of 2 degrees, or if we end up in more of a worst-case scenario) is dependent on the creative and cooperative behavior of such unpredictable actors, I don’t think that anyone can accurately say what the future will be.
Still, we know a few things. Whether we agree to tie our own hands through democratically decided legislation, or allow unmediated market forces and natural processes to do it through a “hard landing,” the average resident of the Western world will be consuming a lot less. Realistic carbon taxes (if instituted) will raise the price of all sorts of inelastic goods (food, transportation, heating) in relatively predictable ways. Drought, sea-level change and a rising demand for energy will do the same things (though in a much less predictable way) through market mechanisms. One way or another, discretionary spending is going to drop. It is hard to say by how much, or when. But it is impossible to believe that this will not have a substantive effect on where and how we live. In short, we are already transitioning from a period of “wanting more” to one of “getting less.”
The beauty of snow, contrasted with the challenge of winter, has often been a subject for Japanese artists. Source: Evening Snow at Kanbara, from the series “Fifty-three Stations of the Tōkaidō” by Utagawa Hiroshige. metmuseum.org
This brings me back to the Japanese notion of Wabi-Sabi. Within this philosophical vision “freedom” does not originate from one’s ability to escape the bounds of the natural world. Rather, freedom is found as one lives successfully in harmony with it. More often than not in Japanese history, this has taken the form of finding beauty and meaning in the simple, the frugal, the rustic and the sincere.
As a political scientist I worry that the sorts of “diminished expectations” that climate change is already bringing will lead to increased levels of social instability and violence. It is hard to see the current riots in France (the worst since 1968) as anything other than a preview of what could happen in many other places as carbon taxes start to bite, or governments lose the ability to keep up with mounting natural disasters and rising food prices. Some of this will be unavoidable. But our social expectations of a world in which progress is measured in increased consumption is sure to exacerbate such tensions.
The concept of Wabi-Sabi is interesting to me as it has always been more than a set of guidelines for gardening or architecture. It is a remarkably well-developed argument about the benefits of choosing less, of living simply, rather than always pushing for more. The central problem of modern existence is the creation of social and individual meaning. Whatever its drawbacks, the economically focused “American Dream” succeeded in structuring the imaginations, efforts and expectations of generations. It can only be modified or replaced by another set of principles capable of doing the same.
Telling a generation of Americans that due to their carbon footprint they can only buy “tiny homes,” or 500 square foot urban apartments, is a recipe for revolution. But supporting a vision of society where people spend more time having experiences with friends and family rather than working to acquire ever more things to stuff in ever larger houses could be the beginning of a renaissance. Cultivating a deep appreciation for Wabi-Sabi as an aesthetic vision, and accepting the fundamental values that lie behind it, could be an important step in making that happen. Indeed, it might prove to be the most important moment of cultural exchange between Japan and the global West.
This is where we return to the martial arts. Sadly, one cannot really gain an understanding of these concepts (let alone cultivate a new set of values) simply by reading blog posts. In my experience Wabi-Sabi is a set of values that must be physically experienced to be fully appreciated. My small appreciation for these values came from hours spent working in an arboretum as a teenager, time spent living in Japan as a young adult, and countless hours invested in the training hall.
Sadly, Bonsai is not a not a very popular hobby in the United States. But the martial arts are. They are studied by children and adults in a wide variety of settings. More importantly, they are projected, appreciated and debated through our media. While only a minority of individuals practice them, there are very few people who don’t have some sort of expectations about, or understanding of, the Asian martial arts. This makes them an important vector to promote a new set of values as society enters an era of consuming less but appreciate more.
As intriguing as this possibility is, it would still require a massive effort. Indeed, this is where political intervention or well-funded informational campaigns might enter the picture. In large part the martial arts have succeeded in the West as they have been adapted to reflect modern Western values, rather than the full complexity of, say, Chinese or Japanese culture. Yet the perpetual search for authenticity within these communities (and perhaps the new or exotic by those who are curious about them), might provide an opening to increasingly bring notions like Wabi-Sabi to the forefront of public discussions of certain martial arts. Equally helpful would be public relations campaigns linking these values to fashionable changes going on in other areas of popular culture, health, architecture or diet. Again, physically enacting such values, and experiencing them in multiple realms of life, is a necessary precondition for their acceptance.
One might object, correctly, that in focusing on the philosophical or aesthetic dimension of the martial arts we lose sight of their “true purpose.” Worse yet, we risk turning them into purely didactic, rather than practical, exercise. Certainly, care is necessary. Yet it is worth remembering that communities and nations have always been acutely aware of the externalities that the martial arts produce. Throughout the 19thand 20thcentury states were generally much more interested in the “supplementary” side effects of martial practice than the details of what was actually taught in the training hall. Acknowledging this fact is not “politicizing” the martial arts. They have been political all along. The real challenge facing us, both as scholars and practitioners, is to understand the full social implications of what we are already doing. Only then can we ask the difficult questions about what will best safeguard the psychological well-being and physical safety of our students as we move into an uncertain future.
